Fling
by notaparty
Summary: Pre-52. Steph's perpetual lateness to class turns her into a suspect in an investigation again , which brings Detective Nick Gage back into her civilian life. Fortunately for her, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, missing a few classes has never been so eventful. Steph/Detective Gage.
1. Chapter 1

Remember when I didn't have Poptarts and lukewarm instant coffee every day for breakfast? Or when I actually put effort into both my outfit of the day and my homework? Or when I arrived to class on time?

Yeah, me either. Granted, I'd only really tried to stay on top of it for the first three days of this semester, but I'd already backslid to the point where I had to check to see if I had remembered to put a bra on when I was halfway to campus. At least I had remembered the bra (the one where the underwire was starting to break free from the fabric and poke me in the chest), but that still didn't change the fact that I was late for my morning English class.

Babs had suggested that I take it because the professor, Dr. Weinhardt, was supposedly great, but she'd neglected to mention that the class was also difficult and filled with English majors who brought in random theorists I'd never heard of every chance they could. Nodding along worked well in other classes, but not when Dr. Weinhardt asked me what I was thinking. To which I would elegantly reply, "uhh?," which he would then reply to with an annoyed sigh.

Worst of all, the class was also tiny so there was no way I could get in without being noticed. And this was my fifth time being significantly late this semester and we'd only had eleven classes. My grade wasn't going to be fantastic even if I was on time and present in every class, but now I was going to have trouble passing, especially since he likely hated my guts. Which I would probably get crap for from Babs since she seemed to know absolutely everything about my life before even I knew it. Great start to the day.

I stuffed half of a Poptart down my throat as I rushed across the street to campus, which was pretty much dead because everyone else was either responsibly sitting in class or passed out asleep in bed, where I had been only twenty minutes before.

A few Gotham PD cars were around campus, as they often were, but today there were slightly more than I was used to. Cops usually wandered around on those dorky Segways or sat in patrol cars, making sure people weren't smoking weed in the quads or causing general debauchery for anyone who passed. But today, they were standing in clusters near the sciences building, where Babs's office was and where she taught her a few of her classes. Something about the way their heads were bowed toward one another solemnly made the second half of my Poptart feel like cardboard in my mouth, but I couldn't stop long enough to get a good look or overhear anything.

I did notice Nick Gage, the detective I kept running into, in one of the clusters. He'd gotten a haircut so I could see the cold-reddened tips of his ears. He also hadn't shaved in what looked like a few days so he looked a bit scruffy, which I liked. It was nice seeing him in full daylight and off-duty so I could fully admire him without Babs telling me to pay attention to the task at hand or disapproving of my accidental (well, kind of) flirting. From here I could mentally thank whoever chose the GCPD uniform pants for choosing ones that contoured to his butt perfectly, as well as whoever invented the squat.

I almost waved when he turned around a bit except a) he probably wouldn't recognize me without my Batgirl suit on since we'd only met once when I was in my civvies, and b) I chose that moment to slip on a patch of ice and send half of my breakfast flying. My only saving grace was that I didn't actually full-on fall. I'd caught myself with one hand, but it was my Poptart hand, and my other arm balanced on the edge of a bench. The Poptart sailed several feet, propelled by the speed at which I'd nearly fallen, and hit Detective Gage in the cheek.

Perfect.

He looked up, obviously confused but surprisingly not alarmed, then at the ground at the half-eaten cinnamon sugar Poptart, then at me.

"Uh, sorry!" I said, tugging on the bottom of my jacket. "Slipped."

"I would give you back the Poptart, but I'm guessing you don't want it now," he said, chuckling. "I'll toss it out for you…Stephanie? Barbara Gordon's student?"

"Mmhm." I swept crumbs off my gloves, hoping my blush was just subtle enough to be confused as being too cold. "Um, Detective Gage, right?"

"Right." He tossed the pastry in a nearby trashcan. "I didn't think you'd recognize me. We've only met once or twice."

I forced myself to laugh to sound at ease, which actually usually worked when I wasn't trying to not to blush to death and/or fling myself head first into the iced-over fountain a few feet behind me. "But you recognized me?"

"Good with faces—comes with being a cop, I guess." He shrugged. "And you have a memorable personality."

"Do I?" The words came out a lot more desperately than I'd intended them to. Plus one for non-costumed Steph for making an impression, but minus one for being awkward about it. Luckily he didn't even blink.

"Oddly personal, though not in an off-putting way." He rubbed his large gloved hands together, as if he were trying to warm them up. "Heading to class?"

"Kind of." I checked my watch. An hour late for an hour and fifteen minute long class.

He grinned. "Don't worry, I won't arrest you for cutting class or anything. I skipped my fair share when I was in college."

I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from grinning too hard. His parents really needed to apologize to me directly for making such a handsome son. "I thought cops were rule followers."

He shrugged again, still smiling, and leaned toward me a little bit so others wouldn't overhear. His breath smelled sweet and a little minty. "That'll be our secret then."

I wanted so many secrets with him, many of which were probably too filthy for me to repeat to anyone at any point. I'd never been so thankful that I'd worked with Babs to get my inside and outside voice under control in my entire life.

"Well, tell Barbara I said hello. Have to get back to work," He said, making eye contact with another cop over my shoulder.

"Okay." I bit the inside of my cheek and looked back at the other cops. "Is everything alright?"

He mirrored my gaze, slipping his hands into his pockets. "We aren't fully sure, but we have it under control."

The way he said it sounded like standard cop-speak, but dealing with cops frequently had given me a more trained ear in hearing what they really thought. It wasn't going well. There wasn't a lot more to go off of. Noticing I'd arrived, the cops had stopped talking amongst themselves, and the computer screens inside the cars showed a screensaver instead of any information.

"Oh." I glanced at my watch. Class was moments from being over. "Well, it was nice seeing you."

"Nice seeing you too, Stephanie."

Instead of walking past the cluster of cops, I went inside the computer sciences building. I could get the notes from someone else. It was only my second absence, so hopefully Dr. Weinhardt wouldn't mind as much as he did when I shuffled in apologetically.

I made my way to Babs's office, knowing she had her office hours, and knocked.

"Come in!" She called, sounding more awake than I thought she would be. Though unfortunately that meant she had the energy to give me a suspicious look the moment I stepped in. "Out of class early?"

"If being out early means not even bothering to go because I'm so late, then yes." I stretched out in the seat on the opposite side of her desk, throwing my legs over one of the chair's arms. She'd added personal touches to her office—a Rubix cube, which had been solved since the last time I was here, a picture of her and her father, a dish of candies. Her papers were stacked somewhat neatly, but the rest of her desk and computer screen were covered in incongruously low-tech post-it notes with scribbles on them like "call Grayson" and "yogurt." On top of that, she looked put together with her dark green v-neck sweater and non-frizzy hair even though she probably went to bed later than I had. It was probably part of her Oracle powers.

"I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt." She wheeled over to her bookcase and grabbed an intimidating textbook. "What's up?"

"Did you see those cops outside?" I picked up the Rubix Cube and started rearranging it so I could try to solve it again.

"I did." She put the textbook on an open spot on her desk and leafed through it.

I waited for her to say something else, but she just put a few post-it notes in the textbook and glanced at her watch. I briefly wondered if she was waiting for someone, but she probably would have kicked me out if she had an appointment.

"What'd you think?" I asked.

"I think it's just a routine check so far, but I'll keep an eye on it." She shut the textbook. "Nothing's popped up on any of my radars, so GCPD is more than capable of handling it."

"Speaking of GCPD, Nick Gage is down there." I glanced up from the Rubix Cube, which was eluding me.

"_Detective_ Gage, you mean?" She gave me That Look again, the one with her brow raised a bit and her glasses sitting a little below their usual position on her nose.

"Right." I busied myself with the cube again so I could avoid her gaze. "He's down there. He got a haircut so he looks a bit…different."

"Hm." She went back to the textbook and wrote something else down, like I'd said there was a new grocery store down there instead.

I desperately wanted to ask her if they were still dating, though that would probably cross a line. Though the question would only matter if he dated nineteen year old vigilantes who could hardly get to class without flinging Poptarts and stabbing herself in the boob with her own bra, which I seriously doubted he did.

I hopped out of the seat and went to the window so I could look out on the quad. It had started snowing fairly hard, but the cops were still standing around. I wondered if Nick had a hat, and how his hair would look after he took said hat off and mussed his hair up. Which then led me to think of what his bedhead looked like…

"Stephanie?" Babs asked, writing something else down on a post-it. "You alright?"

"Mmhm!" I watched a few cops walk into the building where my class was supposed to be, with two coming inside the comp sci building soon after. "Just watching the snow."

"Mmhm," she echoed. "It's supposed to only be an inch tonight, but the weather report says it's supposed to be pretty bad just in time for the weekend."

"Oh great, just in time to keep me from going out to all of my imaginary friend's houses and all those imaginary dates." I sat back down across from her. The weekends for me were patrols and franticly attempting to catch up on missed readings and homework, though more of the former than the latter. With more waffles and ice cream. And sweatpants.

She laughed and tucked a stack of papers into a folder. "Well, Cassie is coming home tonight, so you have that to look forward to."

"Right!" I'd almost forgotten, but knowing she was on a plane back to the US after being in Hong Kong for what felt like forever was what got me out of bed this morning. She wasn't a huge fan of snow, so patrol would probably be fun. Assuming she would be up for it, but it was Cass, so she would always be up for it.

I was going to ask Babs if we could come over to her place and paint our nails like old times, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Babs called.

"Um, hello, Barbara." It was Nick—Detective Gage, again. "Sorry to bother you."

"It's fine. I was just organizing a few things before class." Babs stuffed more papers into the folder and put it in the corner of her desk. Not a very I'm-dating-you gesture, but then again, I was right there.

"May I speak to Stephanie, please?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the back of a notepad. "It's related to an investigation."

Babs gave me a look out of the corner of her eye that was more out of concern than anything else. I probably looked just as concerned. "Of course."

Gage smiled at me and gestured to the hallway, so I followed. His smile made me feel simultaneously at ease and all butterflies-in-the-stomach. He had really cute teeth, like one of his incisors was a little crooked and the shape of all the others worked well with his face. Plus his lips, and the way his beard stubble formed darker spots where it dipped into his dimples.

"Is there something in my teeth?" He asked, running his hand over his mouth.

"No! I was just…looking at your face," I mumbled, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my jeans. "Is there something wrong?"

"I just have a few questions for you." He opened up his small notebook and took a pen from his jacket pocket. He was left-handed. "Mostly about Dr. Weinhardt's class."

"I thought you weren't going to spill our secret," I said, laughing.

His mouth curled up into a tiny smile, but the rest of his face stayed serious. "I already know you didn't go to Dr. Weinhardt's class today. Where were you?"

"I accidentally overslept. Today I was so late that I didn't bother going to class, so I went to Babs—er, Professor Gordon's office," I said, watching him scribble down a few things.

"Can anyone vouch for you being late? Like a parent or friend, besides Barbara?"

"No, my mom had a night shift at the hospital." I fidgeted a little until I forced myself to stand still again.

He wrote more down things, leaving an awkward silence between us. His face had gone a bit solemn, but I couldn't tell whether it was because he was concentrating or not.

"Okay." He shut the notebook. "Thanks. I might have to talk to you again soon."

"Nothing terrible, I hope?"

He shook his head and put his notebook back into his jacket pocket. "We'll see. But for now, just keep going about your daily life."

Even though his words were soothing, an anxious sweat bloomed under my arms the way it did when I was under scrutiny. Hopefully my Batgirl senses were off this time, and it was just post-Gage jitters that were making me feel like I was going to throw up a little bit. But it never worked out that quite well for me, did it?


	2. Chapter 2

"Is it going to get colder so this whole sleet thing can stop?" I asked Babs as I tugged on another thin thermal layer to go under my batsuit. "Snow is fine, rain is fine, but the mixture, not so much."

"Weather report says it'll sleet all night," Babs said, not turning from her computer screens. Unlike me, she was in a Gotham U sweatshirt, blue pajama pants, and slippers with a cup of hot cocoa, looking like she was in for a night of trashy TV rather than infojocking. Who knew, maybe she did have one of those screens hooked up to Bravo or something. It wouldn't be the biggest surprise from her today—that honor belonged to the bouquet of flowers tucked next to her Nightwing plushie. When I asked her who they were from, she just said "a friend" with a smile that was definitely not the kind reserved for friends. But then she started tossing me long underwear and changed the subject, so I couldn't ask anything else.

"Ugh." I yanked the long undies down from between my butt cheeks. "So nothing you've seen so far is inside or anything?"

"Nope." She finally turned, her mug in hand. "It won't be so bad. The suit's slightly heated now and I can keep track of your vitals so you won't literally freeze to death."

"Good to know." I finally pulled on my batsuit and brushed my hair down with my fingers so I could put on my mask. "Where's Cass?"

"Here." She came out of nowhere, as usual, but still startled me a bit. I really had to get her to teach me how to do that. "Ready?"

"Got your layers on?" Babs asked Cass, who was gnawing on a protein bar. Not enough food on the flight, apparently.

"Mmhm," she grunted, finishing the bar in one bite, then slyly smiled at me. "Not that cold though, so I should be fine."

"You're a machine, Cassie," I said, smiling back at her. "Let's head out."

The cold was just as bad as I expected it to be, and then some. Cass immediately started jumping and swinging from building to building to get to our patrol area, silently challenging me to keep up with her. My competitive spirit was definitely starting to clash with the sleet hitting me in the face. Once we got to the resting area, she crouched on the edge of the building and looked out onto the city.

"Not your best night?" She said, smiling.

"It's freezing!" I sat instead of crouching so I could curl into a little ball. "Did it ever get this cold in Hong Kong?"

"Ehn." She shrugged. "Technically, yeah, but it always feels colder here. I guess it's the whole…city."

"Mm." I glanced into the alley below. It almost looked like it was purposefully trashed, but it wasn't—the garbage collectors didn't bother to get the scraps that the street dogs bit out of the trash bags and the street cleaners tended to operate more in the nicer parts of Gotham. One of the dogs knocked over an empty trash can, startling another mangy looking pup out of his sleep. They fought over a piece of discarded chicken before finally giving up and curling up around each other under some cardboard for warmth. I wanted to take them home, but Mom was strictly anti-pets because of her allergies. Maybe Babs would? Though she seemed like a cat person…

It was way too cold to think about this without moving or something. I would have to call the no-kill shelter in the morning. "Want to jump around a little bit more to keep warm? I think the sleet's letting up."

Before I could realize what was happening, Cass leapt across the narrow alley, laughing. She so would.

I followed her from building to building, tagging her shoulder. Without words, she knew it was her turn to be "it" and started chasing me after that. I swung around a fire escape and managed to tag her on my way up, but she got me when I landed on the dumpster. She darted down the alley to a narrower alley, where she stepped from wall to wall to get back to the roof. I hadn't quite mastered that move yet, so I ended up three-fourths of the way up before I slipped on the wall and almost busted my ass. Thankfully I grabbed onto an uneven brick ten feet above ground.

Cass looked down from the roof, checking to see if I was still alive. I gave her a thumbs up with my free hand before grabbing the brick. My fingers brushed something that was distinctly not brick—a piece of paper, which I caught before it got away from me. I put it between my teeth and climbed up the wall. Cass had stopped our game and was waiting for me to read it aloud.

I unrolled the scroll, but only found a code instead of legible words.

"It's just a bunch of gibberish, but it looks like a code." I turned it sideways, as if that would help. I pressed my intercom. "Hey, O?"

There was a bit of shuffling on the line, but I finally heard her say, "Yes?"

"We found a piece of paper with a code on it—not sure if it's worth anything. Can you check it out?"

"Yep, can you scan it with your goggles?"

I felt around for the right buttons to push on my helmet and held the paper in front of my face. "Get it?"

"Got it. Looks like it'll be fairly easy to crack, but I'll get to it later. Hold on…" She paused. "Need you guys on East 23rd and 1st Avenue, break in in progress at Gotham Natural History Museum. It'll probably be over by the time you guys make it across town, but you can collect some physical evidence for me. I've got the camera feed going right now."

"East 23rd and 1st," I repeated to Cass. She took off heading downtown, and I followed. She took the side route that I wouldn't have normally taken, but we got there just as GCPD did. We waited on top of the adjacent building while they went in—an ambulance was already there, wheeling a person out on a stretcher. He didn't look so good, but at least he was alive.

"God," I mumbled. "Security guard?"

"Most likely," Cass replied. "Always is."

Luckily the atrium to the museum was entirely made of glass, so we could easily see everything going on inside. Crime scene workers were taping off areas, and police officers were standing around, observing. After saying something to one of the crime scene workers, the cop peeled away from the group and went into the alley next to the museum, where deliveries typically came in. He just happened to look up, which was the only reason I realized it was Nick again.

Cass started down the fire escape of the building to get to the scene, but I stopped her.

"Alley—I know this cop." I waved her over to the other fire escape that was closer to him. I didn't want to startle him, so I made sure to shuffle a little bit. He looked up from his notepad, slightly confused until he realized it was me. Then he smiled and it practically lit up the whole alley.

"Batgirl and…friend?" He nodded at Cass.

"Oh, this is Blackbat. We're…partners, kind of."

"Nice to meet you," he said. Cass nodded back at him. "Investigating this too?"

"Yep, just trying to get some information. What happened?" I glanced right behind his shoulder since his eyes looked too green up close. Either that or he was shooting attractiveness beams at me because he just couldn't help it, and that made him too hard to look at directly, like the sun or something.

He sighed through his nose. "Broke right in the front door and raided the new crystals exhibit. We're still trying to see exactly what was taken. Some of those crystals were worth a lot more than others and not everything was taken. Should be about ten minutes before I can get an update, if you want to stick around."

"Hmm." I looked at him directly again, then over my shoulder at Cass, who was looking over the alley. I wasn't sure what else to say to him. Couldn't ask about what he'd asked not-Batgirl me, couldn't ask about him and Babs. Couldn't ask him if he was single in general, though it would be kind of weird to go on a date while wearing a cape and thigh-belt. Plus, apparently he wasn't even sure if I was legal, according to what I'd overheard one of his co-detectives saying about me. So that was great. How did I manage to easily pass for eighteen when I was fourteen, but now I was asked if I was excited to be eligible to get my learner's permit? Besides a ton of makeup and push up bras?

"Kind of cold for you to be out in a unitard, isn't it?" He finally asked, smiling so that both of his dimples appeared in each cheek. "I'm wearing long johns plus three layers and I'm freezing out here."

_Long johns_. Why was that so adorable? What if they had little snowflakes printed on them? "The suit's heated."

"Makes sense." He shuffled his right foot against the concrete absently. "Out here like the Pony Express. Rain or shine or snow or sleet…"

"…Batgirl's patrolling Gotham's streets?" Good one, Steph. "But I think that's the postal service motto."

"Close enough." His smile broadened. I really hoped O wasn't checking my vitals because my heart was definitely pounding. God, this was bad.

"Detective Gage?" A young police officer peeked into the alley. "Oh, uh, hi…didn't know you—"

"It's fine, I was just chatting with Batgirl about a few things." He turned toward the cop. "Updates?"

"Yep, the only crystals missing aren't particularly rare—they're like the kind you can buy in those little kits at kids museums, only in a bunch of less common shades." The cop shrugged and told us the name, sounded like Latin, which I recorded and sent to Oracle.

"So not a whole lot to go off of at this point?" Nick asked, his brows furrowing. "I'll go take a look."

"Alright." The cop's walkie-talkie bleeped and he left the alley to go answer.

"See you later, then?" Gage asked, squeezing my upper arm gently and stepping close to me. It was a friendly gesture, but he never touched me before.

"Yep, I'll be around." I wasn't sure if I should touch him back, because I definitely would have touched the wrong place.

"Nice meeting you, Blackbat." He nodded at Cass again, then left us alone. My arm still tingled where he touched me.

Even under her mask, I could tell Cass was giving me one of her Looks without an explanation. Thankfully she didn't say anything, not even while we snuck a few bits of evidence to take back to Babs. We started going from building to building again until she abruptly stopped to look around, kneeling at the edge of a building.

"So." She finally looked at me. "The cop is…good looking."

"That obvious that I like him?"

"Yep." She stretched a bit. "Googly eyes from both of you."

"He was not giving me googly eyes! Or googly eye-ing me, whatever." Was he eyeing me? My flirtometer was basically broken, but it wasn't _that_ broken. Plus he didn't know my actual name. I mean, he did, but he hadn't connected the two identities and probably shouldn't. If he did, those googly eyes would probably go away, unless he had a thing for nineteen year old college students who often rocked side ponytails during the day because they how they wore their hair to bed.

"He was." She stood and took off across the building again. I tried to catch her to ask her how exactly he was looking at me, but I couldn't until we got back to Babs's place. But by then, we were too close to Babs for me to actually ask. She heard basically everything that went on in her version of the cave, and she probably didn't need to know about my crush.

"Mind if I have a bit of that hot chocolate you were drinking earlier? I need to defrost," I said once we were behind her, pulling off my mask and shaking out my hair.

She didn't answer—all I heard was fast typing and a quiet sigh. Her screens were filled with feeds of police officers and text. It must not have been excessively urgent since her sigh sounded like more of one of mild annoyance than desperation, but it was a sigh all the same. Or maybe she was just tired since there was a mostly empty bottle of wine next to her hot cocoa mug. But on the other side of the bottle of wine were two cups, so someone had been over recently.

"Damn it," Babs whispered under her breath. "Stephanie?"

"Hm?"

"Dr. Weinhardt's been arrested for stealing approximately a hundred thousand dollars worth of jewels—"

"Him? Wow, he seems like the type who wouldn't even steal ketchup packets from a restau—"

"And somehow all signs are pointing to you being somehow involved. Stephanie Brown you, not Batgirl you." She finally turned to look at me. "Thankfully they don't want to make an arrest at this point, but we definitely have a problem."

"God, this again?"

"Tell me about it."


	3. Chapter 3

"So they think a student is involved so their first instinct is to go after the girl who's barely hanging onto a 3.0GPA and dislikes the class?" I quickly read over the files that she had compiled. "I mean, I have the utmost faith in GCPD, but what?"

So my lateness happened to line up with every day some of these jewels were stolen from one of Gotham's elite family jewel collections (apparently rich people had things like this under low security, wasn't like they couldn't afford more fancy things). They were going to check with my mom for alibis…only I was almost always late when she was working a night shift and couldn't wake me up, so she couldn't vouch for me.

Fantastic.

"They go after everything that could possibly work out, especially when it has to do with wealthy clients. Plus, it seems like you have a motive, considering your last tuition payment was a little late. Money's always a good reason to pin something on someone." She reached for her glass of wine, only to sigh again with disappointment when she realized it was empty.

"That was the bursar's office's fault! We were totally on time. And just because we aren't rich doesn't mean I would steal jewels." I flopped on the edge of her desk. "What can we do?"

"Wait it out. I'll send you an alert if they decide to further pursue you as a lead."

"There's nothing to do to keep me from being arrested?!"

"Not that I can figure out as of yet. I'm sure they'll back off once they realize that you aren't involved, but just in case, I can handle it." She started typing. "Is your mother on night shift?"

"Yeah." I ran my hands through my hair.

"Good. Stay here tonight and go back tomorrow since you don't have class tomorrow," she said, skimming over a screen. "If the police contact your mother between now and then, I can have someone at the clinic act as an alibi for you."

"Is that legal?"

She looked at me over the top of her glasses without stopping her typing. "Would you rather get arrested?"

"Well, no."

"So you and Cass can come upstairs with me, have some hot chocolate, and get some rest." She shut down her computers and put the laptop that was sitting on her desk on her lap next to her phone. "C'mon. I've got it all under control. I don't even need the supercomputers for this."

I sighed and followed obediently, peeling off layers of my suit as we went until I was in my base layers. We got on the elevator, then another, then another until we got to the one that went up to her apartment. It zipped up to the penthouse so quickly that my ears popped.

"Oh, I also have cookies, I think." She tapped around on her phone's screen.

"Girl Scout cookies?" Cass asked. For someone so tiny, she could put away half a box of Thin Mints faster than I could.

"I wish. Dinah and I ate those so quickly that I wasn't even sure they existed." She snorted.

The doors to the elevator slid open to her foyer, which opened to a door. She punched her passcode in and the actual door to her apartment slid open. It was an open floor plan, so you could see straight through the living room and into the enormous kitchen…where a man was standing at the counter naked except for what appeared to be a zebra print Snuggie around his front side. His butt was so perfect—nice and round, a bit of hair but not covered in it, great proportion to his hips and torso—that I almost forgot the fact that he was a naked guy in Babs's apartment, acting like nothing was wrong. In a zebra print snuggie.

"Babs, I brought some…" He turned. _Oh god_. "…Girl Scout…cookies…um, hello."

"Grayson!" Babs practically shrieked, zooming inside. "Did you not get my text?"

He pinched the back of the Snuggie closed. "I keep my phone in my pocket, and I'm kind of pocketless at the moment, if you couldn't tell."

"The Snuggie has pockets," I blurted.

Though Babs probably didn't care about that at the moment because her face and neck were flaming red. She pushed him out of the kitchen and down the hall without saying another word. Well, until the door slammed and I heard them start to argue a little.

Awkward.

Cass didn't seem to care, though. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a few cookies, then the milk from the fridge.

"Want some?" She asked, tearing off a paper towel to put her cookies on.

"Sure, why not." I went into the kitchen too and got cups for us. Cass slid my cookies to me and sat on the edge of the counter, next to a plastic bag. I sat on the opposite side of the bag and took a peek in as I ate my first cookie. Hand soap, vitamins…and K-Y Jelly. I was learning way too much about Babs tonight. And Dick, for that matter. Somehow I knew more about their sex life than I did about their actual current relationship, and I didn't know a whole lot about the former in the first place.

Eventually the two of them came out, Dick thankfully clothed, looking bashful.

"Sorry about that," Babs said, going into the living room. Her face was no longer red and she seemed a lot calmer.

"Sorry about being naked, too. Thought it was just going to be Babs." He smiled and came into the kitchen with us. "But I'm glad to see you, Cass. I didn't know you were coming in tonight."

He wrapped her in a hug and squeezed, which she returned. I caught a little smile on her face. "I got in a few hours ago. Went on patrol. Saw your butt. Ate some cookies."

He laughed and let her go, then gave me a quick hug. He was a good hugger, no side-arm hugs or awkward spaces between bodies. It was nice seeing him the way he was before all the mess went down with Bruce, like someone had turned on all the lights in his life again.

"So how have you been?" He asked Cass, reaching around her to grab some cookies.

It seemed like they wanted to catch up, so I slipped out to where Babs was checking a few things on her laptop. I flopped on her couch and stretched, involuntarily letting out a huge yawn before I could cover my mouth.

"Let me get some sheets for the guest bed, Stephanie. You're going to pass out on the couch and wake up regretting it. That couch isn't great for sleeping." She closed her laptop. "Follow me."

I pushed myself up and did as she said, down the hall and around the corner. She opened the narrow closet and started handing me sheets and towels.

"You don't mind if I ask a question, do you?" I ran my fingers over the sheets. They were a million times softer than the ones I had at home.

"Go ahead."

"Why are you and Dick a secret? He sent you those flowers, didn't he? And you've been kind of distracted lately, but in a good way." I watched for her reaction, and sure enough she paused, her hand on a towel.

She sighed a little and put two towels in her lap. "It's a little complicated, even though it shouldn't be. We've been off and on for what, seven years? I didn't want to tell people until I felt like it wasn't yet another fluke. So I was just scared that I would jinx it."

She held up the towels and I took them wordlessly. We talked a lot, sure, but it was usually one-sided, me talking about Tim or my Mom. We'd started off shaky, but we were getting there. It was good to know I wasn't just some pain in her side anymore.

"Get some rest." She closed the closet and patted me on the arm. "I'm heading to bed too. There are spare toothbrushes in the cabinet under the sink and big t-shirts in the drawers."

I had to take her up on that. I quickly got ready for bed and slid under the covers, groaning as my body sank into the mattress. If I kept up this vigilante thing, would Bruce eventually buy me awesome mattresses and Egyptian cotton sheets?

The next morning, I was the last one to get up. A fresh change of clothes—just a t-shirt and sweats—were sitting on the side table for me. Thankfully they fit. Babs must have bought the clothes a little while after the closet debacle, when I had to go meet Francisco in a slip and a trench coat because all of her pants didn't fit over my butt or hips and all her shirts were baggy around my boobs. The joys of being a pear shape.

When I went out into the kitchen, Babs was furiously typing on her laptop with a cup of coffee and half-eaten bagel next to her. Cass and Dick were nowhere to be found, probably because it was noon. Woops.

"Finally awake?" She didn't look up from her computer. "Bagels are on the counter."

I grabbed a bagel and sat at the table across from her. "Any more news on whether I'm going to get arrested?"

"No, it's fine. But I'm going to need you to go do a bit of undercover work at the museum."

"It's open already?"

"It just opened late. After going over some security footage from the nights prior to the break in, I noticed one person there almost every day. As far as I know, GCPD hasn't followed this lead yet. I almost didn't catch him since he's very bland. He has a membership so he can get in by just flashing a pass, but I can't seem to connect what I've seen of his face with an actual name on the list. I'm going to need you to get more details and possibly some kind of blood sample. Or even get a tracer under his skin."

"Sounds like a good time. But I don't have clothes besides these."

She smiled. "Learned my lesson last time—there are some clothes that should fit you in the guest room drawers."

'Some' clothes was an understatement. There were jeans, tops, sweaters, even a couple of coats. I chose some straight legged jeans that made my butt look nice, and a few layered tops to go under a purple peacoat. With the right clothes and Babs's fancy hair products, I managed to look a thousand times more presentable than I did on a regular basis. Hot, almost. Definitely cute, though. If I wasn't such a human disaster on a regular basis, I would dress up a little more often.

After Babs gave me cash for the entry fee and a backpack full of spy gadgetry disguised as school stuff, I went to the museum. Luckily I was actually taking an earth science class, so I could say I was looking things up if anyone asked. Since it was a Friday, there were slightly more people than usual, but less than there were on the weekend. Despite the break-in, everything looked basically normal. The broken windows in the front were covered in plastic, but that was it.

I went to the crystals exhibit, which was one of the largest exhibits in the whole museum. Caution tape surrounded the corner where everything had been stolen, and a bunch of kids from a school trip were trying to poke around there. The exhibit guard told them to go back to their group and surprisingly, they did without putting up a fight.

I slowly walked around the exhibit, glancing up to see if the guy I was supposed to trail was in. Judging from the security tapes, he really was boring, the kind of face where you could have a full conversation with him and still manage to not remember what he looked like moments later. Boring face on top of a boring situation. It was a fairly slow day, probably because of the break in and the freezing weather, so it was usually just me and the occasional school trip. I pulled out a notebook and started doodling to make it look like I was doing something. I started with a few of the crystals, but then that got dull, so I switched to doodling cats, glancing up at the entrance of the exhibit every once in a while.

Then somehow, the cat doodles turned into a weird little comic involving cats, snuggies, and aliens who looked like butts.

"Those don't look like crystals," a man said from behind me, scaring the pants off me.

I whirled around and came face to face with Detective Gage. Again.

"They're just doodles. And at this point it feels like you're following me." I shut my notebook and scanned the exhibit before settling on his face. He had some serious dark circles and his eyes were a little red.

"Following you?" His right eyebrow lifted a bit.

Oop, except for the fact that he'd only met not-Batgirl me three times. "I mean, we've seen each other twice in like, two days."

"Oh." He nodded and shifted his stance. The only way I could describe it would be 'cop mode'—one hand in his pocket, the other clutching a small notebook at the hip. "Seems like I always see you in areas where there have been crimes."

What could I even say to that? Yes, I'm a somewhat unlucky college student by day and a crime fighting vigilante by night, so of course I'm lurking crime scenes? Yes, I kind of want to run into you everywhere just so I can get those great but also terrible crush feelings all over again?

"I'm here for…earth science," I said instead, feeling my face flush. "And besides, I was at school the first time."

"I was just messing with you," he said. "Two times is a coincidence, but three times is a pattern."

The tension melted out of my shoulders. "Oh, right."

"Nice drawings, by the way. Reminds me of my notes during earth science in college." He smiled, one side of his mouth leading the other. "Not the most exciting class to have at nine in the morning."

"I thought it was going to be an easy science credit, but instead it's kind of a pain." I shrugged.

He nodded and looked at something past my shoulders. "I'm sure you'll do fine."

I snorted. "If I can ever make it to class. It's at 9:30 in the morning."

"A lot of late nights studying?" He looked concerned, almost. It was kind of cute, but also disconcerting in a way. Like he'd just said, we'd only met three times total, including this one, not enough times to be worried about the side-effects of no sleep on my health.

"Yeah, all alone. Wish I had company," I said smoothly before realizing how it sounded. Maybe he could take it as bad flirting? If I were lucky. "Like a cat...or something."

Thankfully two kids who had broken loose from their school trip darted through the exhibit and bumped into Gage so I wouldn't have to bullshit more awkward saves. Gage stumbled into me, catching my shoulder but tossing his notebook across the exhibit.

"Ah, sorry," he said, going for the notebook. I beat him to it and attempted to pick it up in one swoop. He'd torn so many pages out that my nails couldn't catch the bottom from the smooth floor. Unfortunately, that meant I got a face-full of what he was writing. On one side, he'd written S. Brown, and on the other side he'd written Batgirl, a line dividing the sides of the pages. So far he only had bullet points written down on the S. Brown side, but I had the feeling that he could fill in the Batgirl side easily, considering that he'd already put my name and Batgirl on the same page. On one hand, the S. Brown could be another person with my initials, but it was better to assume the worst of any situation in this business.

Crap. Crap. Crap. Babs was going to gut me like a fish. And I was having Bruce-like paranoid thoughts.

I flipped over the notebook when I finally picked it up and gave it back, smiling to appear somewhat calm.

"Just cut my nails, sorry." I clutched my backpack strap.

"It's fine." He tucked the notebook into his pocket. "I should let you get back to your note-taking. See you around."

"See ya…" The second he went to where the jewels had been stolen to speak to the guard, far from where I was, I dug through my bag to find my phone. I needed to talk to Babs. I couldn't exactly dump out everything onto the closest bench without causing a scene, so I settled for angrily swearing under my breath and shoving things around inside the bag. "Where the hell is it?"

"Need help. Miss?" A different man said from behind me.

"No, I'm…fine." I turned to face him to be polite but immediately panicked when I realized that it was the man I was supposed to be trailing.

Calling Babs would have to wait.


	4. Chapter 4

"Uh, no, I'm good," I said. I stopped digging for the phone and laughed bashfully. "Backpack is kind of messy."

"Ah." He just nodded and stepped back, tucking his hands into his khaki trench coat pockets. Was a khaki trench the best look for someone who may be a criminal? It just screamed sketchy on him and made him actually stand out a bit. Maybe I just watched too much Criminal Minds? Or Project Runway.

I thought he was going to leave, so I said, "Thanks for the concern, though."

"Are you here for a school project?" He asked, not stepping away.

"Yeah, actually." I stood up straight, quickly realizing that he was making this a lot easier for me. I palmed a small tracer from my bag like a coin. "It's not going so well."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He had a smooth voice. Once again, generic. He must have been a pro at hide and seek when he was a kid. All he had to do was stand next to a beige wall.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about…" I quickly scanned the crystals to find one that was somewhat pretty. "…Aragonite?"

"No, I'm sorry." He scratched the back of his head, making his coat sleeve ride up. No wrist tattoos, no freckles, nothing for me to add to the guy's file. "Luckily they don't ask about crystals on the SATs, eh?"

Again? Really? A junior in high school at the oldest? I thought I looked at least twenty-one today. "Hah, yeah."

"I do know a little bit about quartz, though." He wandered over to the quartz. "Did you know they develop electrical potential when put under mechanical stress?"

"I didn't, actually." Nor did I really care, but it helped me pretend to write something down. "That really helps my project, actually. I think I can run with that."

He smiled. Braces perfect teeth. "Glad to have helped."

"Thanks so much." I extended the hand that was palming the tracer. Thankfully he shook it and the tracer took.

"Not a problem." He smiled and checked his watch. "It was nice speaking to you."

Thankfully he soon wandered out of the exhibit so I could leave too. That was almost too easy, but I wasn't going to let that bug me for long. The second I was outside, I called up Babs. The snow had momentarily let up, but the sky was so gray that it wouldn't be that way for long.

"Get the tracer on him?" She asked.

"Yep. It was surprisingly easy." I walked up the platform to get on the train home.

"Let's just pretend that's because we're on a good luck streak. See you tonight?"

"Mmhm." The train arrived and she hung up before I could tell her about Gage possibly knowing my identity. Well, at least it could wait until I found out a way to break it to her easily.

Mom was home when got back, but thankfully she was in the kitchen so she wouldn't notice my brand new outfit. I could smell waffles and bacon cooking, so I changed into sweats and a t-shirt as quickly as I could. Despite the gigantic bagel Babs had given me, I was ready to eat again. But then again, when wasn't I, especially when breakfast was involved?

"Well hello," Mom said, smiling when I came into the kitchen. She was already in her pajamas. "Feels like I haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, just busy." I kissed her on the cheek. "Waffles almost ready?"

"Yep, set the table."

I did as she said and waited at the table, sipping the chocolate milk I'd poured myself. Eventually she joined me and put a waffle on my plate.

"How has school been?" She asked after our initial silence/waffle gobbling. "Are you going to get good grades again?"

"Yeah, it's fine." I curled one leg under my body and focused on filling each indentation of my waffle with just a drop of syrup.

"Just 'fine'?" Mom's brows raised. "You're so busy, but just fine? Have you been hanging out with friends?"

That twinge of hope in her voice when she said 'friends' killed me every time. Was I that socially inept? "Yeah, kind of."

She paused, dragging a bit of waffle into a butter puddle. "Are any of these friends boys?"

"Mom, god." I felt my face get hot. "No, none of them are boys."

Well, technically. Gage could hardly fit under the 'boys' category.

"You can tell me if they are, sweetheart." She stopped eating. "It would be nice to know. You're in college now."

"It's not a boy, Mom." I stuffed more waffle into my mouth.

She sighed a little through her nose, the kind of sigh she always said she never did when I pointed it out. Her exasperation made sense, though. I was doing the normal college thing, had a few friends that she knew of, and was even making decent grades. Of course her next thought was going to be about dating because that was Normal Girl Stuff. Except I hadn't been normal at any point of my life, really.

"Do you want to watch a little TV before I start my shift?" Mom asked, finishing her bacon.

"I should get to this study group," I said, standing. "But maybe this weekend?"

"Saturday. Family game night." She pointed her fork at me. "No excuses this time."

"Looking forward to it!" I kissed her on the cheek and went to put my dishes in the sink.

"And call me when you're on your way home. The storm's supposed to get bad and I don't want you to get stuck on public transit. Try to get a ride from a friend if you can."

"Okay, I promise."

I bundled up again and headed back to Babs's to suit up. She was already on her second mug of coffee, judging by the coffee machine she had on the corner of her desk. Long night and it wasn't even nine yet.

"The guy you put a tracer on was a dead end—he's sitting in his house. Checked his computer and there's not much to go off of besides copious amounts of foot fetish porn." She sighed through her nose, her jaw slightly tense. "So we're going with a different case until I can unearth something, basic stuff for now. People trying to smuggle things into Gotham via the shipyard again. Not even sure why they try."

"Do you have another layer for me to put on under this? Mom said the snow was going to get worse." I looked around for another thing to put on under my top layer.

"I'll heat it up extra." She switched to the weather on one of her screens. "It does look pretty bad, but I bet you can be in and out before it gets awful."

"Alright, then." I slipped into my costume. "I'll be down there in ten."

"Ricochet's seats are heated, by the way!" She called after me on my way out.

Thank god. Even though I'd only been inside for less than a half hour, it felt like the temperature had dropped at least 10 degrees in that time. Plus the snow had picked up considerably. I ducked into Ricochet and turned on the heat. I practically melted into it. Thanks again for being excessively rich, Bruce.

I got to the shipyard and hid Ricochet before going to the top of a building to scope things out. As expected, a group was tucked behind one of the floating storage containers, like the trailers of an eighteen wheeler on water. A small boat pulled into the harbor. Rather than pulling things off the boat, a man on the dock started handing over small boxes.

"Hey, O? Little switcheroo, here. I'm going to check it out."

"Switcheroo meaning…?"

"They're smuggling things _out_ of Gotham." I leapt from the building to the top of another one of the empty trailers. "What could be in Gotham that other places would want?"

"We have the highest percentage of citizens with more than one handgun, so probably guns," Babs said.

"First in firearms, fourth in obesity?" I flattened myself against the top of a trailer to examine the crime scene. Had to get the angle right.

"We're second in obesity, actually. "

"Remind me to get you caught up on Parks and Rec some time." I slid off the top of the trailer and did a flying kick, sending the man putting boxes onto the boat into the icy cold water. Since I was on the ground anyway, I swept the other guy off his feet.

The men on the boat had more time to react and immediately pulled guns on me. Luckily I had gooperangs ready for their hands.

"Were you anticipating no one to be out here?" I picked up one of the boxes, ignoring the gross, sexist slurs the guys were throwing at me. "Usually the other guys I catch out here have a whole flock of bodyguards and stuff."

I opened the box, which was surprisingly light. There were crystals inside, just like the ones in the pictures at the museum.

"Yes! Jackpot. Found the crystals, O," I said.

"Seriously? God, what luck." I could almost hear her frantic typing. "Head on back and—"

"Gotham Police! Put down your weapon!" someone shouted from behind me.

"What?" I turned to show my bat symbol, but they weren't pointing to me at all.

I didn't get to see who they were aiming, at, though, because I got slammed into the side of an empty trailer. Before I could reorient myself, I heard gunshots and shouting. Finally I made it to my feet and saw what was going on.

A man was floating above the scene, deflecting the bullets from the GCPD. He was wearing all white and glowing vibrantly amongst the now insanely thick snowfall, which was blowing sideways.

"Batgirl, get down!" Gage shouted from my right. I ducked just in time for him to take another shot, only to get slashed across the shoulder by what appeared to be a beam of light.

I couldn't even stop to help him—the glowing man tossed both of us into one of the trailers. I was inches away from crawling out before a similar beam of light sealed the trailer shut and sent us spiraling through the air laterally until we landed with a gigantic crunch and a skid after what felt like ages in the air.

"Y-you okay?" I asked, trying to catch my balance again.

He grunted and pushed himself up with his non-injured wrist. "I feel like I've been on a roller coaster and I hate roller coasters, so sort of. At least we didn't hit water?"

I checked the edges of the container for a way to get out, but we were locked in tight. "We're locked in, but there are tiny air holes. I wonder if I can break through them…I guess I'll have to call Oracle."

"Uh, you wouldn't happen to have a band-aid or anything, would you? Before you call? So I don't pass out?" He coughed.

"Oh! Oh god." I whirled around and realized that his clothes were soaked in blood. "I'm so sorry. I have first-aid stuff."

I rushed over to where he was leaned against one of the walls of the trailer. I helped him with his layers (he already managed to get his coat off), trying to determine how much blood he was losing. Finally I got down to his bottom layer, which was stuck to his skin from all the blood.

"I'm going to have to cut this off, sorry." I took my scissors and started cutting, slowly revealing his abs…and his nice pecs. And his chest hair, which wasn't too thick or too sparse, and that little bit of hair beneath his belly button. Oh, and the crazy amount of blood, which was obviously more important than my abruptly high pulse and rushing hormones. Priorities.

"It's fine. Just an undershirt." He winced when I gently touched around his wound. "Is it bad?"

"No, it's not very deep. I can patch you up." I dug around my waist pockets for bandages and things to clean off his blood. I wiped the blood off his chest first. "Let me know if it hurts."

"The cut doesn't hurt that badly, surprisingly," he said. "It's just the cold."

I glanced at the pile of clothes he'd removed. "Likely because we took off about fifty layers. Just a little cold?"

He snorted. "Just a bit. Not used to having an actual winter. Having lived my entire life with Coast City's year round perfect weather, this is a little bit of a shock."

"So Gotham is only the second city you've lived in?" I asked without thinking. Getting too close to him would only make it easier for him to discover who I really was. Though I guess that point was kind of moot considering the fact that we were stranded on a sand dune in the middle of the bay, locked in a small space.

"Mmhm." He winced as I cleaned the corner of his cut.

"Quite a change. Coast City seems like paradise compared to Gotham. Are they even in the top ten for most murders?"

"No, we're number fifteen or so." He went quiet and studied my face, making me slightly self conscious considering that we were only a few inches apart. I noticed he was focusing on my eyes in particular, for whatever reason. The wind made the walls of the trailer creak.

"All done." I put the last touches on his bandage. "Luckily it wasn't that bad. You bleed like a stuck pig, though."

"Thanks." I wasn't sure if that was sarcastic or not. I handed him his shirts, though, and helped him get them on.

"I'll call Oracle so we can get out of here." I pressed my intercom, expecting to hear O on the other end, but it was dead silent. I pushed it again and still, silence. "…That's odd. Our connection's not working."

He was already pushing buttons on his phone. "No service. The weather must be too bad for anything to work."

I dug around for my emergency communication button and pushed it. I couldn't speak to Babs directly, but she was allegedly supposed to send someone as soon as possible, whatever that meant. Hopefully it would work despite everything else being broken.

"I sent out a signal. I guess we'll have to wait around until then."

"In this cold?" His knees were curled up to his chest.

"As opposed to outside, on the patio?" I said, one eyebrow lifting under my mask.

Instead of being offended, he smirked. "Touche."

"I do have a bunch of warming gear, if you'd like it." I pulled out the silvery blanket I had in one of my pouches and handed it to him, then grabbed the small heater from my thigh pack. I hadn't actually used the heater before, but it seemed easy enough. It fanned out like a bowl with a simple press of a button and blew hot air in one direction.

He slid up next to the heater, right next to me so our thighs touched. I kept telling myself that it was because he needed to get close to the heater, but he didn't have to be touching me to reach it. "How much stuff do you have in those pouches, anyway?"

"Basically everything I would need if I got stranded like this. There are even granola bars that don't taste like dried bark." I rubbed my gloved hands together.

He shook his head and laughed. "This whole bat crime fighting thing…I knew it existed, but I didn't know how involved it was until I got to know you a bit. I thought you all had superpowers."

"How do you know I don't have superpowers? Mind reading? Telekinesis?" I joked.

His face went beet red in the places where they weren't already red from cold. "Do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh." He put his hands closer to the heater. "Well, that leads to my next question: why? It seems like a lot of physical strain for a regular person. Especially a girl your age…"

He trailed off expectantly.

"I'm twenty," I said. "Well, almost."

"That's what I mean. You're young. You could be in college or something—" eep. "—Or staying in and hanging out with friends, but you're out here fighting crime and risking your life."

I paused. "Well, why are you a detective?"

His brows lifted. "Because I like helping people and figuring things out."

"I do too." I looked at the heater.

"But I don't do it for free, or in a spandex suit." He really looked at me, a mixture of slight awe and something else on his face. "So you're either nuts, or an angel."

"I'd say it's a little of both." I smiled.

He kept looking at me, a small smile also coming onto his face. Then he glanced at my lips, and back at my eyes, then my lips again. I'd kissed a lot of guys, and literally every last one did that before he kissed me. My heart immediately started fluttering, and then the moron in me came out.

"Is there something on my lips?" I blurted.

His eyes zoomed back up to meet mine. "No, sorry. I was just thinking."

Way to mess it up, Steph. "Oh."

"How long will it take for this Oracle person to get here?" He asked.

I glanced at the watch I had in one of my pouches. "The weather still sounds like hell, so it might be a bit if she can't send a helicopter or car. Maybe another half hour?"

"Good." He cupped my face with both hands to tilt my head up a bit and kissed me. The shock almost made me pull away, but I got it together enough to kiss him back. I felt like my bones were turning to jelly. Like I said, I'd kissed a lot of guys before, but none of them had done it like this. I nearly groaned, but he stifled it with another kiss that made me momentarily forget how to breathe. His grip on my waist tightened as we pressed closer and closer to one another, until I was half in his lap.

_Oh, screw it_, I thought, straddling him and running my fingers through his hair. He obviously didn't mind, since he took my closer positioning to run his hand down my back and to my butt, making me grind up against him. It briefly reminded me of sex ed in eighth grade. A woman from the Abstinence League of Gotham described girls as being "ovens" and guys as being "microwaves" when it came to getting heated up for sex, which she somehow used as evidence for everyone to wait until marriage (which didn't make much sense and obviously was not an effective selling point for me). Sitting in the back of the class, I snorted and said that I was more like an industrial microwave.

I was definitely a microwave right now. I hadn't even kissed a guy since Tim and I broke up, and Tim wasn't the type of guy who took charge in these kinds of situations. Gage was all over me in the best way possible, rocking against me and touching me in every sensitive spot I knew I had. And a few that I didn't know were that sensitive. God, I needed this stupid suit off. I would freeze, but at least I would be happy doing so.

As if he read my mind, he said, "Does this thing have zippers?"

I reached up to my neck to start undoing the clasps, but froze when something landed on top of the trailer. Its footsteps told me it wasn't a hunk of snow slamming down.

"Batgirl?" A girl shouted from outside. "It's Supergirl."

She punched a hole in the roof and started to peel away the metal, forcing me to scramble off of Gage.

"Hey!" Kara said once she'd opened a big enough hole to get inside. She was in her regular uniform, totally unfazed by the blizzard going on behind her. "I was flying over Gotham so I could see all the snow and got a call from Oracle asking for help right when I was over the water. Great timing, right?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Glad you're okay, Batgirl. Thanks for patching up Gage," Commissioner Gordon said, patting me on the shoulder before he went back to his car. Kara had plucked Gage and me from our metal prison and taken us back to the mainland. Upon arrival, Gage was whisked away by paramedics, who had arrived to help the other cops who had been hurt by the meta.

"Not a problem, Commissioner," I said to his back, trying to keep my cool. _Oh my god, I just made out with a cop who is at least ten years older than me_ _and it was fantastic and Babs is going to kill me if she ever finds out and she sees everything—_

"I can fly you home, if you want, since the road is icy," Kara said, landing softly next to us.

"Thanks, Supergirl." I nodded and went to hop on her back so we could leave before I did anything else reckless. She took off toward Babs's place, flying a little low so the thick of the snow wouldn't completely freeze my face off. Once we landed on the roof, she grabbed my arm, her eyes bright.

"So that cop was super hot and I'm super jealous that you two made out." She squeezed my arm harder than she probably meant to.

I ran my hand over my face. Why did I think she wouldn't know? Super hearing plus our rather enthusiastic kissing did not bode well for keeping things on the down low. "It wasn't supposed to happen, so can you keep that a secret?"

She looked confused for a second. "Okay…"

"Thank you. I swear, Oracle would kill me if she knew."

She smiled. "Then I'll definitely keep it a secret. But I still want details eventually."

I rubbed my hands together. "I'm going to get inside before I freeze my butt off. Will you be back in Gotham soon? We can talk then."

"Yeah, definitely! Like tomorrow. We can go to the mall and get cinnamon buns."

I almost regretted introducing her to the joy of cinnamon buns. Now every time she was in Gotham, we had to get cinnamon buns from this place called Taylor's Buns (horrid name), and she had been coming back to Gotham a lot more frequently as of late. I never thought I would get sick of them, but Kara was pushing me there.

But still, I said, "Sounds like a plan. BFF?" I held out my pinky.

"Always." She linked hers with mine. "See you tomorrow, then!"

She was out of sight in seconds, leaving me to go inside and face Babs. Realistically, Babs couldn't know. I couldn't even get her on the regular intercom, so it wasn't like she could have magically seen inside or heard anything. But then again, my slightly puffy lips and the way my skin was irritated from his beard stubble weren't helping. It was like a huge glowing sign that said, 'Hey! I just made out with someone!' was pointing at my face. Great.

I got through her security and went to her main room, where she was still at her computer. Dick was sitting on the corner of her desk in street clothes, eating a bowl of cereal. He said hi to me first, nodding instead of speaking with a full mouth.

"So you didn't freeze to death?" Dick asked once he'd swallowed a mouthful.

"Nope, thankfully." I pulled off my mask and fluffed up my hair.

"Good to know the suit's heat still works when everything else is down," Babs said, finally turning toward me. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"Nope, nothing more than usual." I sat on the opposite side of Babs's desk. "So what was the deal with that guy? The glowing one?"

"A meta, as you probably know. He has the power to convert different types of crystals to other subjects and calls himself the Alchemist." She shrugged and grabbed her mug of coffee. "So, putting him in connection with the crystals that were being snuck out of Gotham, we have ourselves a lead on Dr. Weinhardt's case."

"Awesome! Maybe I won't get arrested."

"Maybe not." She started shutting down her computers and looked back at me, studying my face, particularly my mouth. "Dick, would you mind if I spoke to Stephanie alone?"

"Of course." Dick hopped off her desk and wandered to the elevator. "Meet you upstairs."

Uh-oh. "About?" I asked Babs, watching Dick go into the elevator and go up.

"The beard burn around your mouth. I almost didn't notice because of the windburn on the rest of your face, but it's unmistakeable. Care to explain?"

There wasn't any point in lying to her because I knew that she already somehow knew—she just wanted me to say it. What was the protocol for this anyway? It wasn't like I'd made out with a villain or another vigilante. Gage was an older cop who might have an idea of who I was in my civilian life. But he was one of the good guys, so was it really that bad? Besides, it was only a twelve or so year difference and I was of age. Older guys dated younger women all the time. Granted, a lot of them did as a mid-life crisis kind of thing, but details.

"Gage and I…kissed," I said, grabbing one of my elbows behind my back.

She sighed, suddenly seeming less annoyed. "I'm not even sure what to tell you. I thought all the flirting was fairly innocent, and yet here we are. If you get too close to him, he could find out your civilian identity and possibly leak it by mistake."

"About that…" I told her about the list Gage dropped in the museum. One of her eyes slowly started to twitch

"Damn it, Stephanie." She grabbed her laptop and put it on her lap. "On the plus side, he's a cop and I've done extensive checks on him in the past. He's clean, thankfully, but what if he wasn't? What would you do then? At least I can throw him off the scent."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't stop you from getting hurt or distracted. You were on a mission, not at a keg party."

"Keg parties and I don't mix."

"Well, neither do you and kissing cops while on a mission." She sighed and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "Come upstairs so I can give you cold cream for the beard burn. I'll deal with this in the morning."

"I can't believe Oracle is putting you out on patrol in this weather," Kara said, looking completely comfortable in the sleet despite wearing a mini-skirt.

I stared out onto Gotham's skyline. Well, what I could see of it anyway. It was so hazy with freezing rain that I couldn't see more than a few blocks away from the building we were on, especially in the dark. Not that there were a lot of criminals for me to handle anyway. They might have been law breakers, but that didn't mean they didn't have the sense to stay out of the cold.

"Subtle punishment for messing up." I pulled a hand warmer out of my thigh belt and squeezed it to get it going. Even though Babs said she wasn't mad, she definitely was. Annoyed, at least. So here I was, after hours of training with her and getting my ass kicked, getting my butt frozen off instead of eating cinnamon buns with Kara at the mall.

And it wasn't even necessary to punish me since I was doing a good job of punishing myself. . Those old high school taunts from people who were allegedly my friends could come back with a vengeance when I least expected it—"Slutty Stephie" or "Doorknob" (as in, everyone gets a turn), or even just the dirty looks I got everywhere when I was pregnant. The logical part of me knew I wasn't the person they thought I was and that their opinions of me and what I did didn't truly matter, but that didn't stop me from letting those negative thoughts bounce around my mind for hours.

"It wasn't that bad!" She shrugged.

"You think so?" I absently bit my bottom lip.

"I know it's not that bad. You weren't actively trying to save people's lives at that very moment, so no one got hurt because you were distracted. And you couldn't have gotten out of that thing on your own if you tried. Plus, he's a good cop and he's only twelve years older than you. And he's hot and not creepy, so it's not weird."

I snorted. "He knows I'm nineteen, though. He basically asked before he kissed me."

"And? It's totally legal."

"According to that rule, the age difference is too big."

"Rule?" She asked.

"Shouldn't date anyone younger than half your age plus seven. Though it basically doesn't count when the two people involved are over a certain age."

"Did you just make that up?"

"No, it's totally a thing. Not in the actual law, but the social one." I pressed the hand warmer to my cheek. "I don't know if I really believe it though."

"I wouldn't. Who cares what else everyone thinks of your relationship, you know?" She looked at me, smiling broadly. God, I wanted to believe her but Babs's annoyed look when I broke the news kept flashing in my mind.

"I don't know," I murmured, curling my legs up to my chest.

"This is totally like The Fireman and The Heiress," She said after a long pause.

"The what?"

"This book I just finished." She got one of those starry-eyed looks in her eyes and I braced myself for whatever she was about to explain. "So this rich woman's house catches on fire and this young fireman saves her life. Then they fall in love even though she's married—this detective isn't married, is he?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Anyway, they start this torrid love affair and he ends up killing her husband by accident. But then they decided to live happily ever after on this island in the Pacific that she owned."

We were both silent for a second.

"So this relates to my situation how?" I asked.

"Not the murder or the fire or the heiress or the island parts, just the torrid affair between people with an age difference."

I laughed, partially because of the story and partially because of the 'torrid affair' part. "We aren't having a torrid affair. We made out once and Oracle has banned me from doing so ever again so I won't get distracted on a mission."

"But you aren't just Batgirl, you know." She looked at me again, her unnaturally blue eyes focusing in on my own blueish green ones. "You could always…"

"Nope, nope, nope." I held up my hand between us. "That would be such an awful idea. Why would he go out with me as me? He knows I'm a college student, and a mediocre one at that."

"But you're you and you're totally pretty. Plus you have the opportunity to talk to him in person. I would date you if I were a thirty-something cop."

I let myself smile a little. It wasn't often that I got compliments, and hearing them from Kara was pretty sweet. "Well, thanks."

"Batgirl?" Oracle suddenly said into my earpiece, startling me. "Need you and Supergirl to report to Court Street and 90th."

Kara heard her as well, so she stood.

"For what?" I asked, getting up as well. "How urgent?"

"Pretty urgent. Need you to catch someone who's possibly leaving another one of those coded messages in an alley. Right now they're climbing up this wall and it'll take them a while from the look of it."

"We're on it." I gestured to hop on Kara's back. She scooped me up and flew off.

Flying at high speed during freezing rain was not the best feeling, but we got to the scene in moments. Thankfully my dinner had been small because stopping wasn't kind to my stomach. Kara landed on the top of the building across from where the man was climbing down the wall. He looked like a younger guy, now that I studied him, and not the kind who was used to climbing walls. His hands shook on the uneven brick while his feet felt for other bricks below.

Kara scooped him up, startling him into a scream, and pulled him away from the wall while I reached down and grabbed the mini-scroll he had duct-taped up to the brick. It was a good hiding spot, though he probably wouldn't have eventually died trying to get up there. Literally no one (besides a vigilante) would ever see it up there, and the area was fairly deserted, even in the daytime.

"Hey, O?" I unrolled the tiny scroll. The same kind of code that was in the last note, but dark red ink. I brought it to my nose. Metallic smell, just as I thought. "Another note, just like the other one, only it's written in blood."


	6. Chapter 6

"What did the last note say?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little bit ill. The guy was cursing at Kara, flailing against her grip.

"Something about 'saving the archer,' so I assumed it had to do with one of the many vigilante archers out there. I kept an eye on them for a while and nothing popped up that could be traced back to it, so I assumed it was just a one-off for something minor. However, considering this one is written in blood, I'l take another look. Send it to me," Babs said, her fast typing clicking under the sound of her voice.

I sent the image of it to her and tucked it into one of my pockets for her to get the blood analyzed. In the meantime, Kara had taken a bit of broken pipe and made makeshift handcuffs for the guy who was placing the note. He had finally stopped yelling and was now curled up in a ball on the roof, facing away from her.

"He won't talk," Kara said once I came over. "Besides to yell at me."

I kneeled next to him anyway and rolled him over so he was facing me. I took a quick picture and sent it to Babs. He had serious baby face, like I wasn't sure if he even needed to shave yet baby face, and a mouth full of braces. What the hell was he doing?

"What's your deal?" I asked him. "It's a school night."

"'It's a school night'? Really?" He asked, his eyebrows raising. "Shouldn't you be asking yourself the same thing?"

"Oh, come on." I pushed him back over onto his side before I realized I needed to interrogate him. "But really, what's your deal? Who are you and why aren't you at home or something?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because Supergirl can punch you into next week without breaking a sweat. If you don't talk, I mean."

He got even paler, somehow.

"I was just asked to put this note up here for a thousand bucks," he admitted. "So I did."

"Who asked you to?"

"I don't know. This older guy."

"What did he look like?"

"Just like…a guy? White guy." The kid attempted to shrug. "He looked sick though, like he was holding his side and limping and stuff."

"And you didn't ask if he needed a hospital?" Kara asked.

"Well, no." He didn't seem too sorry about it.

I sighed. "That's all that you noticed about him? What time did this happen and what was he wearing?"

"Black overcoat, black pants, brown shoes, dark knitted cap." The kid tried to roll over. "Can you let me go now?"

I paused. "Sure. But we'll be watching."

Kara undid his handcuffs and flew him back to the ground. He took off the second he could. Kara came back and brought me back down too. I was thankful for the slightly warmer temperatures without the windchill.

"Where else do you need us, O?" I rubbed my hands together to hopefully get some blood flowing in them.

She sighed, not exasperated, just filling the gap. "Here, I suppose. There's not a lot out there and it's cold."

I resisted the urge to blurt 'finally' and told Kara. She flew us back to Babs's and we scrambled (well, I scrambled) inside to get to the warmth. Babs was sitting at her computer, as usual, this time with hot chocolate. The picture I'd taken of the kid with my BatCam was on one of her screens, while the code and a bunch of other things were on the others.

"Need any help?" I asked, peeling off my mask.

"Not right now." She turned and looked at me. I couldn't tell whether she was still 'not-angry' at me or what. "Maybe take the rest of the night off; it's only midnight. You have class tomorrow, don't you?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." It was earth science and we probably were going to have a pop quiz that I would tank. "Though getting some more sleep would be great."

"It's a win-win." Babs said. "Get some rest."

—

It was miraculous what eight hours of sleep could do for me. I actually woke up on time, took a shower, blow-dried my hair without it getting excessively frizzy, put on a semi-nice outfit, and had breakfast without rushing. Mom was almost as surprised as I was. I even got to campus early and crammed for my quiz, which I think I passed. And the sun was out.

I had a long lunch break, so I decided to walk across campus to the student union to get something to eat. More people were outside, taking their time getting to where they needed to be, and some even sitting on benches even though it wasn't that warm.

"Pizza day!" I said to myself once I started up the stairs of the student union. Today was turning out better than—

"Steph?"

—Well, it was. I turned around, expecting to see a classmate, but instead I was faced with Tim. God, did everyone from my past decide to pop into my life again at the same time? At least with Cass, I was excited to see her. Tim…I wasn't even sure. We'd left on weird terms; he now "approved" of me being Batgirl after showing him I could kick ass, then he said he would get things right and swiftly disappeared to god knows where before he could prove it.

"Tim? Why are you here?" I clutched the front of my jacket closed because I wasn't sure what to do with my hands.

And of course, he looked good. He'd gotten a haircut—slightly longer on top, a little shorter on the side—and had on a navy blue peacoat. What was the deal with guys in peacoats being at least fifty times hotter than they were before? And even under the peacoat, I could see he had filled out even more. It showed in his face, too. I could have sworn it had lost almost all of its baby fat.

"I was in town for that case you and Oracle have been working on," he said quietly, stepping closer to me. "She's busy today, but she told me you had class. I wanted to stop by and discuss a few things while you had time off. I can take a little bit of your workload off of you if I can start investigating more this afternoon. And catch up a bit."

"I…" I tried to think of a new excuse, but couldn't think of one. I did have a ton of time and I did want a lighter load. "I'm hungry?"

"We can go out to eat. If you want pizza, I passed this Italian place on the way over." He sounded so hopeful that I thought we'd gone back in time to before everything imploded between us. "My treat."

That was all he had to say. Free food was the best food. "Okay, let's go."

The Italian place was a few blocks away, in the slightly gentrified area that had popped up in the last few years. We sat in the corner of the restaurant at a cozy table, so close that it was a little awkward. But when I looked around, almost all the tables for two were like this one. The mirrors on the wall made it seem a lot bigger than it was.

We ordered—I got the meat lovers personal pizza, he got whole wheat pasta with vegetables—and sat there, trying to not look at each other.

"So…" he said, pushing his water glass around. "…The case."

"Oh, right." I crossed my legs and accidentally brushing his for a moment. "What do you know?"

"Almost nothing. Babs just called me and told me we could use a little help since you were planning on focusing on your studies more."

I laughed. She must have been dreaming. "She said that?"

"Yeah. What's so funny?" He looked legitimately confused. It was kind of cute.

_Don't go down that road again, Steph_, I thought to myself, looking over his shoulder to pull myself back together.

"Nothing." I shook my head, then told him everything we knew so far, keeping it a little vague since we were in public. Though, knowing him, he'd probably scanned the place for bugs before we got there.

Once I finished breaking it down for him, he nodded. "Okay, sounds simple enough. I'll get the codes from her and go from there."

"That's it?" I asked. "That's all you needed to know?"

"Yeah, why?" He scribbled a few things down on a notepad he pulled from the pocket of his jeans.

"That didn't take very long."

"I thought we could catch up a bit." He put the notebook back in his pocket.

"You want to start with where you've been since I saw you last?" I asked, surprising myself with how annoyed I sounded.

"I had to go all over, really." He told me a few of the places—he hit nearly every continent. "Not a lot of time for sight seeing, just business."

"Mm." I was thankful when the bread basket finally came. I immediately took a piece and started buttering it, while Tim watched. "No bread?"

He shook his head. "So…school?"

"Yes?" I stuffed the bread into my mouth. So much better than cafeteria food, and honestly, I kind of liked the cafeteria food.

"How is it?" He took a piece, though he didn't seem interested in it. He started peeling the crust off.

"Not bad, not great." I shrugged, my eyes slowly coming to rest on the dark hair on his forearms. Suddenly me being turned on by male body hair was quickly becoming a thing, between him and Gage. Freakin' arm hair.

"Babs told me you were doing pretty well," he said, interrupting my thought.

I looked back at his face. His smile was warm and honest, and it made him look younger than I'd seen him in a while. In a not-creepy way. "You seem to know a lot about me for a guy who's been around the world in eighty days, give or take a few weeks."

He finally ate a little bread, swallowed, then said, "I was just checking up on you. I still care about you, you know, even if I've been really bad about showing it for the past few…years? Has it been years since…you know. Everything."

I nodded, assuming he meant our break up from the way his cheeks went a little red. "Not many, but it feels like it didn't happen long ago."

"Yeah. Crazy how things change." He studied my face, then his hands.

"Things aren't all bad, now, though," I pointed out.

"True." He nodded. "Things have been pretty quiet, at least for Gotham. And I was actually thinking about finishing school."

"Like in a school-school?" My brows raised. "Did that work well last time?"

"No, just my GED since I can be done quickly. Then I was thinking of applying to Gotham U."

"Really?" I tried to imagine Tim in classes with me. Honestly, I could see him as That Kid who knew all the answers, except not obnoxious. Or the guy who was in the library all the time because he liked to read the suggested readings on the syllabus that no one else read. "That's great."

His cheeks flushed. "Since Bruce is back, I feel like I could balance the two."

"We could have study dates," I said, not thinking about my use of the word 'date'. I wished I had a delete key for my words. "Or hang out after class. Or whatever."

"Yeah, that would be great," he said.

If I hadn't fallen in love with him before, I would have missed that little spark in his eyes and words. It was the way he looked at me when we first got together.

Before, when Tim and I fought together right before he pledged to change, I felt the same way I did when we first started dating too—a few flutters in my stomach, knowing he might have had feelings for me, and a little sweaty. Honestly, if he hadn't taken off on his trip, I would have tried to get things going between us again, just to see if we could work. But now I just felt off, like I wasn't sure where to go. I knew Tim better than most guys, but like he said, things change. I might have been reading him wrong.

And I kept thinking of Gage.

Our meals came, giving me time to stuff my face to avoid conversation. I was definitely attracted to Tim physically, as evidenced by my fixation on his…well, everything. I liked talking to this new him, who was closer to his old-old him, sweet and legitimately concerned about what I was doing (in a good way). But whenever I tried to evaluate my romantic attraction, I hit that Gage roadblock. That unattainable roadblock.

Before Tim, I'd made out with a ton of guys, none of which I became emotionally attached to. But now an older guy that I'd made out with for a grand total of ten minutes (not even!) was making me question my feelings toward the first guy I was ever truly in love with?

I needed a fairy godmother or something to get my head on straight. This was ridiculous.

Before I knew it, I was done and I felt like I had to unbutton my jeans and ask the waiter to get a wheelbarrow to push me out of the restaurant.

"Hungry?" Tim asked.

"Just a bit."

He asked for the check and we left back to campus, chatting about Gotham U and how the classes were. He probably wanted to major in some kind of science field, maybe double major. I teased him, calling him Geek Wonder, and he just grinned and asked me more questions. It felt…normal. Almost too normal, but nice and almost nostalgic.

We finally got back to campus and he chose to walk me up to the building where history and English courses were held. The class was one of my favorite classes, women in history, and one of my best. I actually got an A on my last paper, which Mom had put on the fridge and basically cried over.

"So…" Tim paused on the steps. "I'll see you and Cass tonight."

"Okay, see you then." I was about to turn to go inside, but Tim gently grabbed my upper arm, pulled me to him, and kissed me on the cheek. I was so stunned that I just stared at him, wide-eyed, before stammering a thank you for some reason. His face was beet red. So this new-new Tim had all sorts of surprises up his sleeve. Friends kissed each other on the cheek all the time, right? Friends who had dated in the past?

_Oh god._

"Sorry?" He said. "I shouldn't have…"

"I need to go to class," I said, tucking inside before I said or did anything stupid.

I was so thrown that I barely noticed that there was a buzz of low murmuring throughout the halls instead of the normal chatter. I went up a floor to where my class was held and was greeted by GCPD hovering around a door down the hall. Yellow tape guarded by a police officer kept everyone from venturing any closer.

"What's going on?" I asked, feeling uneasy.

"Can't disclose that, miss," the cop said. "If you have class down this way, it's been rescheduled to a room downstairs."

He said something else, but I was too busy craning my neck to see what was happening beyond his shoulder. Even though I'd never been to his office hours, I knew it was Dr. Weinhardt's office from the number on the outside of the door, which he'd written on several of my papers along with a "see me".

Class would have to wait.


	7. Chapter 7

I texted Tim right away, telling him to meet me behind the building, then messaged Babs before jogging back downstairs. I avoided eye contact with people in case they were in my class and slipped out the back of the building, where the GCPD cars were hiding, probably so they wouldn't cause a panic.

My phone immediately beeped with a message from Babs. She already knew about the incident and wanted me at her place in ten minutes—thankfully Tim had driven over. He didn't say a word to me when he pulled the car up in the parking lot, possibly out of the awkwardness of his kiss on the cheek or possibly out of seriousness. I hopped in the car and he sped off toward O's place.

Once we got inside, Babs was guzzling coffee and her coffee machine was making another pot. I could see the tension in her shoulders and neck from across the room. Her screens were filled with feeds, one of which looked like the inside of Arkham, and a bunch of text.

"Okay…" Babs typed a few more things and bullet points of information popped up on her screen. "Before we get into the whole office incident, I figured out that code you found last night. 'The archer' is Dr. Weinhardt."

"He's an archer?" I frowned. "That wasn't in the files, was it?"

"No, he's not. I still don't know what the actual name is referencing, but considering the connections, I'm positive it's him." She sipped more coffee before pouring herself another cup. "The blood from the second note is from the man from the museum. I tracked him using the tracer you put on him and found that he's an old friend of Dr. Weinhardt who's been following the case as well. The whole thing—Weinhardt stealing the jewels, the jewels getting stolen from that family, the museum them—is a set up."

"By who? And why Dr. Weinhardt?" I asked.

Babs paused for a second, her eyes quickly darting over the text on another screen. "Kerry Holt, a meta. And Weinhardt's ex -lover and -student."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Weinhardt's friend—the one you talked to at the museum—is a former researcher for a company that does a lot of testing on meta powers. Weinhardt and Kerry would sneak into his friend's office for privacy since no one they knew would ever run into them there, and there was an explosion that gave Kerry his powers."

"Why is it always an explosion gone wrong that gives people powers?" Tim asked.

Babs shrugged. "It seems like they would avoid making anything that combined powers and explosions, but apparently people still do. Anyway, Weinhardt felt guilty, so he broke it off with Kerry through a letter. The accident mostly affected Kerry's brain, so whenever he got excessively emotional, things started blowing up. Blew up a city block's worth of cars with his mind. Thankfully Superman stopped him before Kerry actually got to Weinhardt himself."

"So Weinhardt didn't get in trouble for sleeping with a student?" I asked, looking up at Kerry's pictures that Babs had put up on the screen. Before, he was really cute—dark hair, dark eyes, dimples. His smile was warm and genuine. Then after, his mug shot for Arkham, he looked like a totally different person. His hair was mostly gone, probably from the accident, and the iris of one eye had turned completely blue. Plain and simple, I wasn't surprised that they'd stuffed him in Arkham.

"Not at all, hence Kerry's anger." Babs paused for a second to type something when something started flashing on one of her screens. "Since Kerry couldn't break out, he's been using his connections within Arkham to destroy Weinhardt's life by framing him for crimes."

"Jeez." I bit my bottom lip. "So what do we do?"

She sighed through her nose. "Weinhardt is in police custody right now uptown, so Kerry's plan is almost complete. For now, we need to prevent him from getting killed if or when he gets into Arkham. At least rush hour starts ridiculously early in the city so it'll take a while for them to get Weinhardt downtown if they're taking him to Arkham at all. They would have to prove he's insane, but I have the feeling that something in his office had been planted."

"Mm." I sat on the edge of her desk. "So we just sit around and wait for everyone to riot in Arkham if Weinhardt gets there? Or until we can get info on exactly what was in his office?"

She drummed her fingers on her desk. "That's what I'm not sure of. Something seems off around the main GCPD offices way downtown, but I can't put my finger on it yet."

She put the security feed of the outside and inside of the office on her biggest screens. Tim and I leaned over so we could see the screens better, our shoulders brushing against each other. He didn't move.

"Looks pretty calm to me," Tim said, his eyes darting across the screen. "At least inside."

"But wait, look at this guy on the phone—" I pointed to the outside feed. "The way he's walking."

The guy was in a plain black jacket, jeans, and boots, like most of the other men, but he kept pacing around in a very exact pattern: three steps forward, a pause, four steps to the left, another pause with his feet apart, then five steps to the right, one arm across his chest with his hand tucked under the arm with the phone. He was just relaxed enough for the people around him not to notice. We watched him for another few minutes to make sure I wasn't imagining it, but he definitely was doing some sort of pattern.

"Maybe it's a compulsion?" Tim suggested.

Babs didn't respond; she was too busy typing like mad into yet another one of her computers. "Might be a code. It's probably a code. Suit up, just in case."

Normally I just stripped down right there because Babs didn't care, but since Tim was there, I paused. Especially since he started to pull his shirt off right there. And his pants. Was there a cute butt requirement for being a vigilante that I somehow missed out on? Or was it just a Robins thing?

"You always wear your base layers under your jeans, Dork Wonder?" I asked, trying to ignore the heat in my face.

He shrugged, digging through his backpack. "It's cold out, so it seemed to be a good idea."

Babs snorted, but I let it slide and went to change in the back since I had to put on a sports bra and everything. I came back out in everything except for my mask. Babs had feeds of every room inside of the police office and outside, one of which was her dad's office. From what I could see, he was sitting there drinking coffee and going over papers. He occasionally paused to ruffle his white hair in the front.

"Still checking on that walking pattern," Babs said, doing the same hair ruffle the Commissioner did unconsciously. I smiled. "What?"

"Nothing." I sat on her desk again, watching the feeds. I searched for Gage and couldn't find him amongst the people in the office, so I looked back at the other feeds. The Commissioner was now eating a cupcake that someone had slipped him, eliciting a sigh from Babs.

"He's supposed to be watching his blood sugar and here he is wolfing down cupcakes." Babs scribbled something on a post-it and stuck it to her desk. I glanced at it—it said _call dad._

"Hey, Babs? I think something's going on with that guy," Tim said. "Someone else showed up."

Babs zoomed in on that feed. A woman had showed up and was rifling through her purse frantically. It was such a normal gesture, like something I would do when I lost my keys, but it felt like the temperature in the room had dropped a good ten degrees. It was something about her outfit, the spitting image of the man's, and the way she was standing, like a robot.

"Get down there, just in case. Stay out of sight," she said, pressing buttons. "And fast."

Tim and I hopped onto a Bat Bike, him in front with me sitting behind him with my arms around his waist, and took off downtown on the back roads. By the time we got there, though, we didn't need to hide. Then again, we could hardly even see. The entire area was in a haze of dust and everyone was shouting. Luckily there weren't gunshots.

I switched my eye shields to the setting that let me see in adverse conditions and assessed the scene. People were dragging passed-out cops out of the building, and the cops who were still conscious were too blinded by all the dust in the air to do anything. I ran up to a cop who was sitting on the ground, holding her arm, and kneeled next to her. She attempted to skitter away, but calmed down when she saw the bat on my chest.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was back in my office when it happened, but from what I could tell, some metas whipped up some dust and are dragging some other cops out of the building. Not sure what they're doing, though." She winced. "A little help with my shoulder, please?"

"Of course." I popped it back in for her and she winced. "Can you hop on my back? Thanks for the info."

She nodded and jumped on when I kneeled. I got her out of harm's way and comm'd Oracle.

"They're dragging cops out, but there are too many to get a handle of the—"

"Don't worry about it. I'm sending in backup to get the outside. You and Red Robin get inside and see what's going on."

I did as she told and ran inside.

"Red Robin?" I asked Tim over the comm when I got inside the actual police station. It was mostly empty aside from flipped over desks and chairs.

"Batgirl, I'm inside," Tim said.

"Where? So am I and I can't see you." I did a slow turn and jumped when he was right behind me. "God, you scared me."

"Sorry." He steadied himself by putting a hand on my shoulder. "What's going on?"

I told him everything I knew and he frowned.

"That's not a lot to go off of," He said.

"I know. But we need to figure something out." I paused, glancing at the turned-over desks. "Hey, O? You there?"

"Yep, scanning the situation," she said. "Did you see if the commissioner got out safely? Or was he dragged out?"

The worry in her voice made it waver. "I didn't see him, but I can check."

"No, it's fine for now." She cleared her throat. "From what I can tell, it's a distraction for a total hell zone in Arkham. Going to need you to get down there to start on the riot while I call in bigger guns."

"Aw, jeeze," I mumbled. I told Tim what we had to do and he just pulled me back to the motorcycle. We were at Arkham in a matter of minutes despite the general ruckus around the prison—alarms were going off, the guards were trying to get control.

"Batgirl, the riot is based around Kerry's cell. Looks like he decided to break out instead of waiting for Weinhardt to get in, hence the distraction at the main police station. Pulled some of the guards away from Arkham for backup at the station," Babs said.

"So you want us to fight a crazed meta?" I kicked a prisoner who was trying to grab me in the kneecap and flipped him over my shoulder.

"Kind of. I'm sending the Birds in because they're the closest. For now, just try to protect the guards who seem overwhelmed."

Tim and I did as we were told, though not without difficulty. Most of the prisoners didn't have powers, but it was easy ten to two and they all seemed to be totally ripped. They got a good number of hits on us both, though, and after a while it started to wear on us. Tim started whipping out all the crazy stuff he had in his belt—flash bulbs, gas, weird stuff like that. It bought us time, but there were so many prisoners that there was no way for us to get them all.

"Another plan, Boy Wonder?" I shouted over the noise, rolling with a punch from an inmate so covered with tattoos that I couldn't see her natural skin color.

"Tango, tumbler, wax, salsa," he shouted. Thank god I remembered the important stuff—it was code for piss off the opponent to the point of distraction, split, reassess, and comm back in.

The pissing-them-off part was easy—I had more "yo momma" jokes than anyone else on the planet. So ridiculous, but in the case of a fist fight, they always seemed to make people mad, especially "yo momma's so ugly that her birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory." One inmate punched me so hard after that one that I saw stars. Once I had an open moment when they threw an inaccurate punch, I dipped out of the way, throwing a smoke bomb behind me to give me time to get away.

I found one of the hideaway spots that the guards used to watch the prisoners without being seen and tucked myself inside to catch my breath and check myself over. Probable broken ribs on my left side, definite broken ribs on my right. Might have pulled a muscle on my leg. Probably had a huge bruise on my cheek and a bunch all over, which I could see through the worn parts of my suit. Even my mask was feeling loose, which wasn't good.

I scanned my surroundings again. More GCPD had arrived and were helping, though they were also outnumbered. But then, thankfully, I heard Black Canary's cry. She was way too close, making my secret hiding place suddenly way less secret.

The wall hiding the small standing place came down, as did everything else below it. I fell, and kept falling without anything to grab onto, until I hit the ground, hard. I was totally fine until the rest of the ceiling started crumbling on top of me. Despite my attempts to cover my head, a chunk of concrete hit me right in the side of the head and I passed out.

Waking up after being unconscious was definitely toward the top of my least favorite physical sensations, up there with labor and getting shot. I could only take in a few details at the time, like the fact that ow, my everything hurt, and thankfully, things had quieted down quite a bit. My sense of smell kicked in next and I wished it hadn't. I slowly tried to open my eyes and found that my left one was swollen shut. My right one was fine.

"You waking up?" A man asked, putting his hand on the not-messed-up side of my head. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

My eye fluttered closed again because it was ridiculously bright. "2012."

"Good." He skimmed his fingers over the bad side of my head and I winced. "Sorry about that."

"S'fine." My face felt significantly cooler than normal, which was nice on my swollen eye. But then I realized that my mask kept my face very warm. No warmth, no mask. My eye flew open and took in as many details as I could. "Oh my god!"

"Relax." He put his hand on my shoulder, but I turned to see who it was. "It's over now."

It was Nick. God, did he have some kind of tracking device on me? My heart rate shot through the roof when my brain finally put it together—no mask, Nick staring down at me, cover totally and completely blown. There was no way to explain it away, so I did as he said and laid back down.

"How did you find me in this hell hole?" I asked when my thoughts stopped racing.

"The purple amongst the rubble. I just happened to go behind this wall and found you passed out." He smoothed my hair out of my face. "Sorry about your mask. You were bleeding pretty badly, so I took it off to check the wound."

I felt around for my mask, not wanting to sit up. "Can I have it back?"

He picked it up from behind him. "It might not be a good idea to put it back on. You're cut pretty badly."

"Did anyone else see? My face, I mean." I took the mask and rested it on my stomach a little too hard. Broken ribs sucked.

"No, just me." He glanced around.

I tried to smile, but that hurt too. "I spent all this time trying to keep my identity a secret and you take my mask off."

He smiled a little. "Well, I wasn't incredibly surprised when I took it off."

Ouch. I closed my eyes again. "God, I'm a terrible bat."

"You're a great bat," he said, wiping a bit of dirt off my cheek with his thumb. "Someone's coming."

"Who is it?" I moved to cover my face and roll over.

"Batgirl? It's Black Canary."

I rolled back over in relief and Nick helped me slowly sit up, his hand in mine, then on my lower back.

"Thanks for helping her, officer," She said, scooping me up easily. I tucked my throbbing head onto her shoulder, letting her ponytail cover my cheek. I could smell a sweet body wash under the scent of her leather jacket. For some reason, being held like that made me want to bawl.

"Not a problem." He stood up too. "She probably has a concussion, by the way."

"I figured. I'll get her checked out." Dinah climbed through the rubble and took me outside, where a plane was waiting. She put me down on a cot in the back, though the plane was small enough that the back was basically the front.

"How's she holding up?" Huntress asked. She wasn't wearing a mask and her hair was up in a messy ponytail. It made her a lot less intimidating than I usually found her.

"She has a concussion, but she seems fine. I'll check her out until we can get her to someone better," Dinah said toward the front of the plane. "Take it easy on the takeoff, Zinda."

Zinda took off as gently as you could get a huge plane into the air while Dinah started cleaning me up. She helped me out of my suit and checked me over, gently humming to herself as she did.

"Where's Tim?" I asked once the plane stabilized.

"He got out with Nightwing. He's fine. They got most of the trouble under control, especially Kerry," Dinah said, looking me over. "As for you, looks like your head got most of the damage, though we'll have to check out your organs for bleeding. The armor and your ribs probably protected you, though." She pulled out the rib tape. "Looking good otherwise. As was that cop who found you. Super hot, right?"

"See, this is why I want to go into action sometimes," Zinda said from the front. "Hot men? Punching?"

"All it needs is a bar in there too and you're right at home," Dinah said, snorting. "Sit up for me, Steph. Do you know the cop's name?"

I told her, wincing when she started wrapping my ribs.

"Oo, that's him?" Her blue eyes widened. "Isn't that the guy Babs went on that awkward date with? She should have hopped on that."

"She and Dick are back together though," Helena said, putting her feet up on a chair across from her. "She gets all the hot men. If we weren't friends, I would hate her. I haven't been on a date in who knows how long."

I felt my face heat up, thinking of the way Nick wiped dirt off my cheek and how he kissed me. Of course, Dinah noticed, her eyes roaming my face while a grin slowly stretched across her own. "Does someone have a crush?"

"Um, maybe?" I blurted, squeaking when she pulled the bandage tighter around me.

"I'm jealous." She snipped the bandage. "It seems like all the cops these days are hotter than they used to be when I was first starting out."

"Tell me about it," Helena said. "Makes the job a bit easier."

"Easier? When you're lusting after someone? Not for me. I would be trying not to kiss everyone."

Helena laughed. "You kiss people even when you aren't lusting after them."

"Well, that's true." Dinah pulled out some more bandages and first-aid supplies, then started on my cuts. "Though flings with random guys you meet out on the field always end awkwardly. Either stick with civilians or stay in settled relationships. At least it works for me."

I wanted to laugh to make myself feel less uncomfortable, but it already hurt to breathe, so I just smiled. "I'm not good at the settled relationship thing either."

Dinah shrugged. "Do whatever feels right. Just take responsibility for what you do, even if it's hard. Don't leave a string of broken hearts around."

I had to laugh that time. "A string of broken hearts? That would mean more than like, two guys would have to be into me."

She finished cleaning the wound on my head, unfazed by my attempt at a joke. "You have a good head on your shoulders, Steph, from what I've seen and heard. You'll do the right thing, whatever happens."

I bit my bottom lip, sighing as much as my ribs would allow. Too bad doing the right thing usually sucked.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: This chapter gets super smutty toward the middle or so, if you're not into that. If you are, well...enjoy?

Debriefs for missions were never fun, but knowing I had to tell Babs my identity was compromised made it as fun as back to back exams. Especially with a raging headache.

But first, Babs told me what happened after I passed out—Weinhardt was safe, though his rep was already ruined because of email print-outs one of Kerry's cronies had snuck into his office. At least Kerry's attempts to escape were foiled, and now Kerry was locked in a special holding facility. And, best of all, I probably would be able to pull my grade up because the professor taking over the class was apparently a total pushover. So that was a win.

But Babs's Momma Bear sense that frequently kept me from getting killed could sense that I was basically about to pee my pants in fear kicked in, so I couldn't avoid telling her. It all spilled out in one breath, from him finding out who I was to our kiss. Once I was done, she ran her hand through her hair and sighed, not saying a word.

"Well?" I said when I could find my voice again.

"Honestly, it could be worse." She looked up at me. "He's a good guy, through and through, and it's better that he knows flat out. But at the same time, it's difficult to deal with relationships, physical or otherwise, when you're on the field."

I picked at a bandaid on my hand. "But I don't know how he really feels about me or anything. And if he likes me, what do I do then? Is that weird, the age difference?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure, Steph. You're definitely not the average 20 year old, but in a lot of ways, you're just a regular college student. But you should talk to him directly."

"Right now?"

"No, when it feels right. Think about it, okay?" She patted my hand. "You've matured a lot in the past few years, especially when it comes to boys…men, whatever."

I bit my lip to keep myself from crying. How did I live without Babs giving me pep talks and advice? Well, I literally didn't for a while, and then I made a bunch of bad choices without it once I "came back" to life.

"Thanks, Babs," I said, leaning down to give her a hug.

"Let me know if you need any help getting his info." She squeezed my hand. "I can pull some stuff up for you if you'd like me too."

"I would, thanks."

She nodded and went to work while I sat and watched, not wanting to really move for a while. Soon enough, she had a bunch of information. She put it in a file for me, then on a flash drive.

"For when you're ready to talk," she said. "For now, go get some rest. I'll wake you up in a while to make sure you're okay."

It took me a while to get the guts to talk to Nick. First of all, I had to get to the point where I could breathe without things hurting. Oh, and my whole concussion and horrible black eye thing. But I healed quickly, so about a month after the fact, I decided to go.

I found Nick's apartment just as easily as Babs found his address and work schedule. It was a cute neighborhood with little brownstone duplex apartments, trees lining the sidewalk. I knocked on his door and adjusted my sweater. I usually didn't dress to impress, and today was no different. I went out of the way to look a little dumpy in the hopes that it would keep me on task—leggings as pants, knock-off Uggs, a thick flannel shirt that I'd found at a thrift store, and a massive sweater. Topped off by pigtails.

"Hi?" Nick said when he answered the door, surprised to see me. He was in black sweats, slippers, a Led Zeppelin t-shirt that was probably black once, and a cardigan. He had crazy bed head and five o' clock shadow even though it wasn't even noon yet.

"Um, hi, sorry." I played with the end of my right pigtail. "I thought we should talk…I found your apartment, and…"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He stepped back. "Come in."

His apartment was bigger than I expected it to be. The front hall opened into his living room, with the kitchen on the right and what I guessed was his bedroom farther down the hall. I followed him into the living room, which was also not what I expected it to be. The room was tidy with two chubby black and white cats on a dark blue couch surrounded by stacks of folded laundry, a small TV playing a baseball game, a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with paperbacks, and a shitload of family photos above the faux fireplace.

"Sorry it's a bit of a disaster in here. I haven't done laundry in a while so I did a bunch of loads and now they're all over the place."

I took a closer look at the pictures while he cleared folded laundry and cats off the couch and turned off the TV. Most of the pictures had who I assumed were his siblings—two sisters, one brother—and his parents. He took after his father, same green eyes and dark hair, though his father's hair was salt and pepper. Besides that, everyone seemed a little different. The sister that looked closer to Nick's age looked a little tomboyish, even at her age, but her older sister looked like a nice version of the sorority girls on campus. Nick's brother looked the most like Nick, except he was about four times as muscular and was the only one with light brown hair.

The pictures progressed in time from left to right—Nick had to be around my age in the first one, looking a little scrawny and baby faced. He slowly shifted into the Nick I knew though family trips and graduations. The one I assumed was the newest had several extra editions: the younger girl was pregnant, the older sister was covered in three kids, the other boy was also covered in about four kids, and the three of them were all joined by spouses. And then his parents were there, grinning.

Everyone looked so ridiculously happy in every last picture that it made my heart hurt a bit. My personal photo history was filled with gaps, the first starting when I was around two, when my dad went back to crime after living straight for a few years. The gaps had finally been ironed out the past two years, where Mom had dragged us to the mall to get our picture taken at Christmas.

"You aren't allergic to cats, are you?" He asked, pulling me out of my daze. Both cats had stuck around, weaving around the legs of the plain coffee table in front of the couch, which was now clear aside from an empty beer bottle and coffee mug.

"No, I like them." I put my fingers out to the slightly smaller one, who sniffed them and butted its head against my hand. "They're sweet."

"Yeah, they're suddenly on their best behavior, though." He ran his hands through his hair, which only made it messier. "My sister suggested that I get a cat so I wouldn't be all alone here, but I ended up with these two because the shelter didn't want to separate them."

"Which sister?" I asked, gesturing at the pictures.

"My twin, the pregnant one in the picture on the far right." He nudged the cat away from me with the side of his foot. "Well, she's not pregnant now, but you know. That kind of has to happen."

"Congrats on being an uncle. Again."

"Thanks." He brushed cat hair off his sweatpants. "Both my sister in law and my older sister are pregnant yet again, so there'll be at least two more by August or September."

"Big family."

"Yeah, it's fun." He smiled.

"Are they all in Coast City?"

He nodded. "I think I'm the only person in my family who's not in that general area. At least permanently."

One of the cats jumped into my lap, spun in a circle, then put his butt in my face, purring. It wouldn't have been that weird if a) I wasn't in the middle of falling in love with the warmth in Nick's eyes and words when he talked about his family or the way he smelled like laundry and toothpaste, b) the cat wasn't large enough for his butt to be inches from my mouth.

"Sorry about him." Nick grabbed the cat and put him in his lap, where he curled up with his feet under his body. "They aren't letting us get beyond small talk."

"Right…talk." My stomach suddenly lurched and it wasn't just the thought of how many germs I inhaled from his cat's ass. Suddenly I wanted the cat to come back and spit up on me just so I could put the conversation off. Seeing him as not-cop Nick was having the opposite effect than what I wanted it to. I just wanted to kiss him all over again and meet his big family and do laundry while listening to Led Zeppelin.

_Bad, bad, bad_.

"Where did you want to start?" He asked, rubbing the cat between his ears until its eyes closed with pleasure. "There's a lot to talk about."

I pulled at a thread on my sweater. I almost said 'everything,' but there was a whole lot of everything. The flirting, the kissing, the identity…Least painful to most. "How did you find out my identity? Before my mask came off, of course."

He rubbed the cat under its chin, gathering his thoughts. "It was a lot of little things. At first, I figured I was just being paranoid—there are a lot of blonde girls around your height and age with a couple of freckles around. But then I noticed scars here and there, like the one on the side of your neck and the tiny one under your eye. After that, when I had to research you for the Weinhardt case, a lot of weird things came up.

"Your grades were always good, despite several disciplinary notices on your record for sleeping in class. Even when you were out of school for your," he paused, "for your baby and all, your grades were good. Then suddenly they dropped and you were 'on medical leave' after Gotham basically collapsed. Usually I can get more information on why people were on leave, but for you, I had nothing, which was weird. Then I saw you at the museum that night, then the next day and noticed your accent."

"I don't have a Gotham accent," I said automatically, biting the inside of my cheek when I realized that I'd said 'Gotham' more like 'Gah-thm' rather than 'Goth-am'. My accent had been a lot thicker before Bruce trained it out of me, insisting that someone could recognize me for it, but I thought it had gone away completely. Apparently not. And now it was coming back to bite me.

"It's very subtle. I probably picked it up because I was curious about you. Plus the whole detective thing. And I'm not from around here, so I notice a lot of weird Gotham dialect quirks. Like how natives say you're standing 'on line' instead of 'in line.'" He lifted his hands from the cat's back so it could hop down. "Just a bunch of little things. From there, I decided to pursue the idea of you being Batgirl, just to see if that related to the case at all. Turns out it didn't relate, so I stopped, but when I had to take off your mask, I wasn't surprised. Especially since you mentioned Barbara before you jumped out of that helicopter."

I tugged at my right pigtail, suddenly feeling very exposed. He was a detective, yeah, but it almost seemed too easy for him to piece my life together. But wasn't that what Tim had done with Bruce? I wanted to curl up in a ball and pull my sweater over my knees like I did at home or in class, but it didn't feel right for right now.

"You didn't find out anything about anyone else, did you?" I finally asked.

He shook his head. "Just you."

At least that was a relief. We didn't speak for a while again, only the sound of the cats yawning and licking themselves filling the air.

"We need to talk about that kiss, too," he said.

"Couldn't we just call it a day?" I joked.

"Stephanie…" He said. It was the first time he'd said my name.

"Sorry." I pulled my hands inside my sleeves. "I'm sorry about the kiss."

"You don't need to apologize at all." He popped his finger joints and stared out the window, then at me. "I feel like it would have come to that anyway. Eventually, I mean. You just sped up the process."

My palms started to sweat. "So the flirting wasn't just an ego booster for me?"

He shook his head. "I knew I felt something for you, but I wasn't sure how to even approach it considering our work relationship. And I wasn't even sure how old you were until you told me."

Neither of us said anything for a while.

"My history with women since my fiancee was killed has been spotty," he said in one breath, almost a sigh. "After her death, I didn't want to date at all for years. Then when I tried to date again things just fell apart because of the time I spent at work. And then I realized I didn't even want to date at all because I was still hung up on her. So I just slept around without attachments. You're honestly the first person I've been legitimately attracted to since Amy—my fiancee—died."

Well, no pressure or anything. Jeez. I yanked at more loose strands on my sweater to ignore the knot in my stomach that had suddenly appeared. Half of me wanted to run all the way home, and half of me wanted to stay and hold his hand or something because I knew where he was coming from. Aside from my mini-crush on Francisco, Nick was the first guy I had been interested in since Tim, and needless to say, my relationship with Tim was connected to nearly every messed up part of my past.

"Kind of scary, then?" I said quietly.

He half-smiled. "A bit, yeah. But fear's kind of my thing."

Another long pause between us, though I could feel him looking at me. I glanced back at him, suddenly realizing how close he was sitting next to me. It slowly sunk in that he was attracted to me. Actually attracted to me. So if there was a mutual attraction that he was open to admitting, would it be wrong to go for it? The right thing and the wrong thing were overlapping, and I couldn't untangle them, so I did what I did when I couldn't figure out what to do: mental pro/con list. Usually my pro/con lists were limited to whether I wanted waffles or pizza, but the concept could transfer.

Options: Leave or suggest we try to become a "thing".

Pros to leaving: He would have to make the next move, therefore lessening my responsibility. Also, I could go home, take my bra off, eat some mac n' cheese and watch Paula Deen make a lasagna sandwich to push down the Actual Adult Feelings I was experiencing.

Cons to leaving: things were still open ended and part of being an Actual Adult was dealing with difficult things, even if they sucked.

Pros to suggesting that we become a "thing": We become a thing, which meant more making out or sex, which I really needed for the sake of my sanity at this point.

Cons to suggesting that we become a "thing": Seeing him on the field, the fact that I was the first person he had feelings for after his fiancee was freaking murdered, the fact that I was still kind of into Tim (at least physically), or the possibility of rejection. So yeah, everything else.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, taking in the stubble on his jaw and neck, then the way he was slightly slumped over. My stomach still gave a little twist, and the parts below my stomach tingled when I looked at how big and slightly rough his hands were.

The part of my brain in charge of my multiple terrible and impulsive choices lit up like the sky filled with fireworks when I scrapped the pro/con list and tugged him over to me by his cardigan sleeve so I could kiss him.

Apparently his impulsive choices sector was lighting up too, because he didn't stop me or even keep it low-key, judging by the way he pulled me closer to him. I could appreciate his kissing talents a lot more when there wasn't a risk of him bleeding or freezing to death. He cupped my face with one hand and rested his other hand on my lower back to hold me close.

He eventually moved me onto my back and rested between my legs, his body completely shadowing mine. I never appreciated his size until it was literally all I could feel, from the width of his shoulders under my hands to how far his legs extended beyond my own. The way he was rubbing against me made the thin fabric of my leggings too warm to wear, and I wanted them and the rest of my clothes off. I started with my sweater, and he took over for my top and bra. I returned the favor for him before he pinned me down again, kissing down the front of my neck and down my chest.

My breasts felt even smaller than usual when I laid down, but he didn't seem to care. He gave each one more attention than it probably deserved, and kept moving downward. Off came my leggings, underwear, and boots. In his hurry, he didn't have time to take in the fact that I was wearing granny panties, thank god, because he was too busy pushing one of my legs onto the back of the couch and the other toward the floor. I had given (way, way) more than my fair of blow jobs, but none of the guys had ever offered to return the favor, so this was a pleasant surprise.

He drew his tongue around me slowly, seemingly gauging my reaction to certain areas, before he settled on one rhythm in one of my sweet spots. I groaned so loudly that I saw one of the cats go sprinting out of the room out of the corner of my eye before I physically couldn't keep my eyes open. He pushed my legs farther apart to get better access and dipped one, then two fingers inside me without breaking his rhythm once.

He went straight in and out for a while, which still felt nice, but then he suddenly kept his hand still and just bent his fingers up inside me over and over again. The change in motion pushed me right to the edge, and all of my thoughts were reduced to a mush of half-formed words and feelings. When I came, I nearly squished Nick's head between my thighs like a grape, but he didn't seem to mind. And he didn't even stop, though there was no way he could have ignored the way my entire body had spasmed moments before.

When I was getting myself off, I always paused between orgasms, if I did it more than once anyway. I came again moments later, hearing myself whimper over the sound of Nick's satisfied sigh. He finally sat up, licking the corner of his mouth before wiping his face with his forearm.

"You wouldn't happen to have a condom on you?" He asked, pulling me from my daze. "I haven't…I don't really have any around."

My eyes shot open in a panic before I remembered that I'd stopped by the student health fair to get free tacos and they were handing out little plastic bags of condoms and lube. I dug through my purse and found the bag. It had three condoms, two regular and one glow in the dark, and a little packet of lube. Bless my appetite and my inability to refuse free stuff.

"Good," he said, sounding more relieved than I was, and that was saying something. "Want to move somewhere more comfortable? And spacious?"

I nodded and attempted to stand, only for my legs to still feel weak. He caught me by the waist, smirking, and took my hand to take us to his room. His bed was perfectly made, and I could tell his sheets were clean when I crawled onto the bed face first. Instead of flipping me over, Nick lifted me onto my knees, spreading them apart. I heard him take off his pants, open one of the condoms and roll it on. He rustled through the bag again, presumably for the lube, but decided against it when he touched me.

He started off gently, kissing my shoulders, then got a bit rougher and deeper, gripping my hips so tightly that I would probably bruise. His neighbors probably hated our guts between his squeaky bed, the way it kept bumping against the wall, and our collective moaning. I tried to bury my face into the pillow, but that was as useful as throwing a sheet over a blasting stereo.

He flipped me over after a while and pushed my leg up, pausing before he pushed it up too high.

"I'm flexible, you know," I said, smiling.

He pushed my knee toward my shoulder. "I didn't want to pull your muscle or anything."

"My legs have been through much worse, if it wasn't obvious from all the scars and whatnot." I watched him push into me, suddenly feel self conscious of my cellulite and generally not-so-slim thighs and calves and ankles.

"Your legs are fine. More than fine," He murmured, his voice hoarse and even deeper. He leaned on top of me and buried his face between my neck and shoulder as he started moving again.

I slid one hand through his hair, my fingers damp with his sweat, and the other down his back to his ass. I dug my heels into the bed to push back harder, digging my nails into whatever skin I could touch. His breathing got even more ragged in my ear as he thrust harder, then pulled my pigtail so my head tilted back far enough for him to kiss my neck easily. It was more of a bite, really, and I didn't hate it.

Soon, he gave one more violent shudder before he pulled out and slid next to me. To my surprise, he reached between my legs and finished me off one more time before resting on his back. Without the sounds of our bodies against each other, I was painfully aware of the sounds of our heavy breathing, the cars whizzing by outside, and the absurdly loud TV through the wall that had probably been turned up because of us.

After a while, he got up and went to the bathroom, leaving me alone to stare at his ceiling. Once the afterglow wore off, the panic immediately set in.

Sex was really great and all, but it definitely didn't fix the hot mess that was our relationship. Or whatever it was. The urge to flee set in quickly. All I had to do was slip out of his room, find the rest of my clothes, and run. But then what would I do when I saw him again, as I probably would? Run again? Run forever?

Shit. This was exactly why I needed to think things through first.

I rolled over on my side so my back was to the bathroom door, my face to his bedside table. He eventually came back into the room and slipped back into bed, not touching me or speaking. I stayed perfectly still until I heard him snoring. I slipped out as quietly as I could and dressed, tugging my leggings out from under one of his cats, and went to find something to write a note.

I went into the kitchen and started opening drawers until I found post-its and a pen in his junk drawer. I scribbled a note, something about being sorry and that we would have to talk soon in public ("in public" underlined), then slipped it into his room.

And then I walked all the way to Babs's place, feeling my panic start to boil over. This situation required waffles and another pep talk.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Hey, sorry it's taken me long to update! This chapter is short, but it's the second to last one. I'm going to go back and edit the whole thing so the plot is tighter at some point in the future, btw.

Additional regrets: deciding to walk to Babs's place in the cold. I could have taken the bus or the subway, but now I was too far from a stop to make going back worth it. It had started to warm up, which turned the slightly-less-awful snow into really awful cold rain. At least it hid my ugly crying face.

I wasn't even sure why I started crying at all, but it just happened the way uncontrollable laughing in a quiet room happened. A few tears slipped out when the wind blew in my face, then kept coming because I already felt crappy and cold and smelled like sweat and sex in some random neighborhood miles away from where I needed to be when I just wanted to be in bed.

People were giving me weird looks and today was definitely not the day for that.

I ducked under an awning and pulled out my phone. I called Babs, but her phone went to voicemail. Same with Cass. I didn't want to call Dick because even though we were cool with each other now, I wasn't so cool with him that I could weep in his car. And Tim was a no. As was Mom. My phone was nearly dead, so I could probably only make one more call.

I called Dinah. Luckily she hadn't changed her number in ages. I forgot when I got it, but I was glad I had it now. I told her that I wasn't bleeding to death or anything, but I needed help. She said she would be there to get me in less than ten minutes.

I huddled under the awning until she pulled up in a black SUV. I ducked into her car, which was warm and smelled like breadsticks and marinara.

"I picked up some pizza, if that's fine." She smiled at me. "It sounded like you needed it."

"Thank you," I said when I could get myself together a bit.

She let me sniffle the whole way back to her apartment, which had a hotel room vibe inside—too neat to be lived in, too sterilely modern to fit her personality. It must have been one of Babs's side apartments. Dinah put the pizza and breadsticks on her coffee table and brought sodas, wine, and plates.

"Okay, so." She handed me a slice of pizza and a few breadsticks. It was from Webb's Pizza, one of my favorite places, thick crust and loads of cheese. "I only got cheese because I wasn't sure what toppings you wanted."

"That's fine, I like cheese." I was suddenly starving. Pizza wasn't waffles, but it was pretty damn close when it was Webb's. I got through four slices and two breadsticks in no time, washed down with two cans of soda. I leaned against the back of the couch before deciding to pour myself a glass of wine. Why not? I never really drank because when I did, it was at parties, which then led to me being drunk off of a beer or two and later, hungover. But one or two glasses of wine with someone I trusted wouldn't be bad.

"Feeling a bit better?" she asked, dunking the end of a breadstick into her container of sauce.

"Yeah. Webb's will do that to a girl."

"The cure-all for problems. At least for a while." She grabbed a napkin to dry the grease from her fingers. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I sipped the wine, expecting it to be a bit intense, but it was sweet and smooth instead. "It's kind of embarrassing."

"That's totally fine. Do you know how many times I've made a complete ass of myself?"

I laughed a little. "Not like, ripped your pants and trombone farted in class embarrassing, but not-funny embarrassing."

She poured wine into her cup. "Go ahead."

I suddenly felt like crying again, so I took a gulp of wine to loosen the knot in my throat. I told her everything, including how I slept with Nick. By the end, I was sniffling so much that she handed me a paper napkin. And she looked a little lost.

"So you slept with that cop, but you aren't scared about Babs being mad at you or anything?" She topped off my wine glass. "Why the tears, then?"

I took another long sip, feeling its effects start to kick in. God, I was a lightweight. "It just feels like I'm going backwards. Like when I first started this whole vigilante thing, I was in it to get back at my dad. Then it was for Tim. Eventually, I got to do it for the right reasons, for others. No guy drama or anything. Now I'm dry humping cops while I'm out on missions and sobbing on your couch about it instead of focusing on why I'm out there in the first place."

She rested her elbow on the back of the couch. "Babe, if everyone in this messed up little community were 100% focused on why they do what they do at all times, we could do about a hundred times more than we do already. We're human underneath all the kevlar and spandex—well, a lot of us are. Even if we have this grand mission to rid the world of evil or whatever, we still can't help but get attached or hold grudges."

I stared down into my cup, but she leaned down so she could try to catch my eye again.

"So don't beat yourself up over something that happens to everyone, most often with more dire consequences than mild and pleasant distraction. Hell, even I've messed up by mixing Black Canary life with Dinah life." She glanced beyond my shoulder, looking momentarily grim. "Like I said the other week, you're a great girl, Stephanie, smart and good-hearted. You haven't regressed into old habits, especially since you're worried about this in the first place. You're just human."

I bit my bottom lip, feeling myself flush. I couldn't help but get pumped up by compliments from Dinah, even if the tiny part of me that I thought I'd pushed away didn't believe her.

"You think so?" I finally said.

"I know it for a fact." She took another bite of a breadstick. "Just take some time to figure yourself out before you talk to him again."

"Thanks for all of this." I reached over to give her a hug, her hair tickling my cheek. "And that other pep talk before."

"No problem. It's nice to dish them out to someone different."

I glanced at my watch. "I should get going. I kind of wanted to check in with Babs before I went home for the day."

"I'll give you a ride."

We piled back into the car and headed to Babs's. Dinah dropped me off in front, telling me to call her whenever if I needed anything else, and left me to go inside. On my way up, I debated whether I should tell Babs about sleeping with Nick, but I finally decided not to. Seeing Tim standing next to her only cemented my choice.

"Hey, Steph," Tim said, smiling. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"I just dropped by to see if you needed me on patrol tonight. I thought I would hang out with my mom since I haven't in a while. Oh, and to get that study guide for comp sci." I wished I had checked my face before I came in.

Babs looked up. "I think we're set for tonight, if you want to spend time with your mom. Tim and I are just writing some new programs. And the packet's over there."

"Okay, cool." I grabbed the study guide and folded it so I could tuck it into my purse.

"I'm going to grab a drink. Want one, Steph?" Tim asked, stretching until his shirt came up a bit.

"Yeah, sure." I'd probably eaten enough salt to kill a whole fleet of slugs. My mouth was bone dry and the wine had only made it feel like it was covered in sugar.

I followed him to Babs's mini-kitchen and slammed back a three-fourths of a bottle of iced tea before Tim had even had a chance to take a few sips of his. I stood there, trying to catch my breath, while he leaned against the counter and made his way through his.

"So…" He said, wiping the bottle's perspiration off on his shorts.

"So…" I leaned against the adjacent counter.

"Do you want to hang out again sometime?" He asked quickly, focusing on his drink. "Lunch was nice, but maybe a movie?"

I suddenly lost my breath again. "So like a date? Or just a hangout?"

He didn't meet my gaze. "Kind of a date? If you want to, that is."

Of course, he had to ask me today, and of course, I thought about it seriously for a second. This was what I wanted, but like a lot of things in my life, it wasn't the right time. Yeah, I was human, which meant I made a lot of mistakes, but it also meant I could reason through things.

"I want to, but I shouldn't right now." I took a moment to sip the rest of my tea. "I kind of need to be totally unattached for a while longer, you know? Just to think about things."

He looked a little confused. "So you don't want to date again?"

"I _think_ I do, but not right now." I twisted the bottle in my hand until the label peeled off. "I want to get it together when I'm on my own before I try to be with anyone else, y'know?"

He paused. "I understand."

The counter dug into my back as I relaxed. "Thanks, Tim."

"You don't mind if I wait for you, do you?" He said after another moment. I couldn't even look at him in the eye because I would break. How the hell could he do that with just a few words? But I focused on what I needed to say for my own sanity.

"You might not want to hold your breath on that, Boy Wonder." I finished off my tea and checked my watch. "I should get home. I just wanted to stop by."

He simply nodded. "Okay. See you around, then?"

I dropped my bottle in recycling. "Yeah, of course."

He didn't kiss me on the cheek this time.

I said my goodbyes to Babs and headed downstairs to walk to the subway. I was so relaxed for the first time in a while that I fell asleep and nearly missed my stop.


	10. Chapter 10

Midterms could take my mind off of anything, even all the crap with Nick. After weeks of wanting to rip my hair out and lay on the floor in a ball in the library clutching my computer science notes, I was done and didn't have anything to distract me anymore. Like writing a paper, I had to tackle the whole Nick situation, even though it was one of the last things I wanted to do.

I stopped by his apartment a few times and knocked, but he wasn't there. I texted him again in case he didn't see my note. I even called. One day, he finally answered and told me to come by so we could walk to a cafe near his apartment. This time, he was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, nothing fancy, but he had intense dark circles and the beginnings of a beard.

"Sorry I haven't been returning your messages. I've been on a hellish case and it just closed." He locked his front door and came down to the sidewalk to meet me.

"It's fine. I figured it was something like that." Total lie. I went through cycles of worrying about why he wasn't calling, whether it was the sex or if it was me, which was probably why I'd done so well on my midterms—every time I procrastinated, I thought of him, so I decided not to procrastinate.

"There's a park a block or two down that way, if you want to go there to talk." He walked down the steps of his stoop.

"Fine by me."

We walked in silence until we got to the park, which was basically just a soccer field with a running track around it. Benches were in the grass as well, so we sat on one, a good amount of space between us.

"Should I start?" I said, finally looking him in the eye.

"If you'd like."

"We should go back to how we were before the whole sex thing." It came out easier than I thought it would, all in one breath. "I don't regret what happened, but I feel like nothing good can come of more of it, y'know? I might not get paid for it, but I take what I do seriously and want to focus on it while I'm out there. You feel more vulnerable as a cop than you would as one of, y'know, me."

Say y'know again, Steph. Jeez.

"Vulnerable?" His brows lifted.

"Like, you're trained and you wear a bulletproof vest, but you don't know like eight kinds of martial arts and you don't have access to crazy advanced medical procedures that could bring you back to life, basically." And had, for me. "Trust me, you're more vulnerable than you think you are."

He didn't say anything.

"I mean, that's not a bad thing? You're definitely more protected than like, some random dude on the street, but I've seen a bunch of our guys go down even with training and protection, so…" I was babbling, but I couldn't help it. The same arguments I was making for us not to have a thing were similar to the ones Tim had used on me to get me out of the field. But this was different, and I was different. I didn't want my feelings for him to get him into a situation that he couldn't handle. Not in a patronizing way, but in a I-truly-care way.

He nodded. "I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I haven't been around for long, but I can see where you're coming from with all the extra technology and training." He rubbed his hands together a little. "Even if I don't want to admit it."

My shoulders sagged without tension I didn't even realize was there. "I didn't want to offend you or anything, but I care about you a lot, even though our relationship isn't conventional or anything. Plus just sex usually doesn't end well for either person."

He nodded again. "I kind of figured you felt that way after you ran off."

I felt my face heat up despite the cool weather. "Well, I've never been good at the whole pillow talk thing."

"Neither have I. Luckily I can just fall asleep and blame it on being a guy." He smiled a bit.

"So just patrol stuff and flirting that doesn't cross the line?"

He raised a brow, but still kept his smile. "Flirting's part of this contract?"

I had to smile a little too. "Sometimes I can't help it."

"I might need some wiggle room too." He leaned back on the bench. "Or a lot of it."

"I can set you up with someone if that'll help," I said. My voice trailed off toward the end of the sentence when I realized how ridiculous it sounded. "If you want me to…or even if you want to date. God, I am such a moron."

"You aren't. Thanks for the offer, but Barbara's setting me up with someone. Apparently there's a new professor in her department who's new in town and she offered to introduce her to me."

"That's great!" And I meant it.

"Yeah, it is. I should get back out there for a bit." He looked at me. "So, shake on it? Business with a small side of flirting?"

I took his hand and shook. "Fine by me."

He jiggled his leg a bit, then stood. "It's kind of cold, so…"

"Oh, right." It had warmed up quite a bit, but it was still pretty cold. "I should get home anyway."

"Same."

We looked at each other for a bit, not knowing what to do.

"Bye, then? See you tonight, maybe?" I asked.

"Yeah, definitely." He smiled again, and this time it was a little sad, almost.

I'm sure I had the same look on my face, but it would pass. I was free to be Steph, which today meant laying in front of the TV to relax until Babs called me out to patrol. After this and midterms, that was exactly what I needed.


End file.
